Finally viewed
A History Of Violence last night (after opening that red Netflix envelope weeks after receiving it). Brilliant and incredibly intense, a masterwork for director David Cronenberg (we studied his work amongst others back in the Authorship In Cinema course I took in art school). Drop dead impressive acting by Maria Bello, Viggo Mortensen, William Hurt, Ed Harris, and notedly for newcomer Ashton Holmes as the teenage son.
The dramatic, emotional and psychological intensity was almost unbearable to watch - and that was before the graphically violent moments (beautifully choreographed). The opening scene, an elegantly done long unedited take, gives way to a shocking introduction to what we're in for.
The
Salon.com review sums up my own sentiments very nicely.
The subtext of violence as a defining characteristic of American culture and society (this movie, after all, was made during the Bush administration years) is very powerful, I agree. The ugliness of it, of heroicizing guns and shooting, is shown without apology, without glorification, and we the audience at once cheer, then share in the responsibility of its aftermath.
We are made complicit in the provocation and propagation - isn't that what we wanted, after all? As Americans, to solve any conflict with violence and bullying? That Cronenberg shows us in the most intimate way what we have done to ourselves and others - brief closeups of the gore and blood, then what it does to what we haved cathected as the ideal American family - only drives the message home.
I know that many of us just saw this for the enjoyment of a violent thriller about mistaken identity, but to dismiss the film as such is tantamount to intellectual irresponsibility. You have to think about it, how can you not?
Viggo Mortensen (Tom Stalls in the story) was very involved in this project, himself being an advocate for a more non-violent approach to re-define American society and politics. And Cronenberg, a Canadian, has always been a keen observer of our obsession with big guns, wars, and imposing our ways on others at all costs.
One movie that I can compare this to is Alfred Hitchcock's
Shadow Of A Doubt (with fine performances by Joseph Cotton and Theresa Wright), about a small town young woman's rite of passage from complacent naive innocence to dark journey into human complexity, that once you cross the threshold you can never, ever go back.
Amazing movie. I can't recommend it enough. Still haven't mailed it back, I have to watch it again.
