Have Faith (Fate), Fury (Fury)

The final days of a young criminal who doesn't want to be what she appears, told with the same contradictions. It's not vengeance; it's love. Not trauma, but sacrifice. And nothing says so much as silence.

~

I'd like to call 'Have Fate, Fury' a character drama. It arose, in part, from a certain dissatisfaction with the concept of the “femme fatale” in today's context, or at least with the expectation that a strong woman should be nothing other than a strong man under more unequal circumstances. But what is that world which young women are supposed to enter and uphold?

Well, if everybody has their place, it is Sanja's to destroy. She can show herself differently in each scene: seeker of paradox, envious and aggressive towards people she admits have a greater right to happiness than she, while often more sensitive to the issues that those decent folk tend to ignore. Life has always been difficult, and she knows that she hasn't allowed herself to make it any easier. Sometimes, she worries that she likes it...

And then the question of retaliation comes in. Along with "against whom?" and "to what end?" But Sanja doesn't want it. This isn't quite supposed to be a screenplay about revenge; and perhaps it's not about redemption either. Frankly, if I were capable of stating more simply what it is – or to say how it moves towards this notion that honest, genuine love can come from very dark places – I might not feel so urged to put it into fiction. Fiction, it may be worth adding, that leaves most of its titular Moirae and Erinyes unspoken.