David Cronenberg's A History Of Violence

[Soon to be in general release.]

DAVID CRONENBERG: A HISTORY OF VIOLENCE

Review by Chris Knipp

Surprisingly limited

A stereotypical American family: the Stalls. A little blonde doll daughter Sarah (Heidi Hayes), a stringy highschooler son Jack (Ashton Holmes), lawyer wife Edie (Maria Bello), and good-guy hubby Tom (Viggo Mortensen) who owns and runs a cafe in the Norman Rockwell town of Millbrook, Indiana.

Suddenly a pair of horror-movie serial killers threaten Tom at closing time in his cafe and terrorize his waitress and Tom explodes into action, killing both men. Tom is (too easily) an instant hero lionized on every local TV channel (and then some) -- but wait! A strange gangster type, Fogerty, with a withered eye (Ed Harris) appears with mafia entourage calling Tom "Joey" and summoning him back to Philly where he supposedly has a criminal past with loose ends dangling, ioncluding a debt to Fogerty.

Yes, Tom appears to have "a history of violence," and when he confronts these new men on his farmhouse lawn his reedy son, already inspired by his dad's new status to beat up the school bully who's been riding him, now backs up his dad with a shotgun and a full willingness to enter the fray.

Attributed to a "graphic novel," Cronenberg's movie, whose concepts would only work in a comic book, is so conventional in its characterizations, look, and music it's hard to believe it comes from the same auteur responsible for the likes of The Fly, Dead Ringers, and Spider.

True, there are mythical and metaphorical elements to the notion of covering up a violent past and a son whose hitman family genes are suddenly awakened. Comix pulp is the stuff of resonant urban folklore.

But much is out of wack in this movie. There's something cheap but soulful about Maria Bello that hardly fits her role as part of the new Norman Rockwell life Tom/Joey has adopted. She's more convincing as a grownup playing cheerleader to revive her husband's sex life than as a lawyer. Since she's part of Tom's new life, why is she too so pugnacious? How did Joey become Tom, and when, and why? Ed Harris, who's often been overrated, plays a straight cliché just fine here, while William Hurt is predictably different and arresting as Joey's older brother. Only, by then, Tom/Joey's Superman skills have begun to drift into parody and Hurt's more original performance only sets that into sharper relief. Isn't Cronenberg just playing with us after all?

The ending where Tom, returned from Philly, wordlessly slides back into his peaceful identity at the dinner table, though again too simplistic for anything but comic book pulp in its conceptual basis, still is very effective in purely cinematic terms, somehow a good way to end. This isn't a bad movie or one you can really avoid. It has to be looked at. Its subject matter is too close to the American grain. But unfortunately as a work of art it fails to live up to the buzz.

LIke Harris', Mortensen's face is a hollow skull. To call this a great performance is to say an empty actor is good in an empty role. There is too little real emotion anywhere in this movie, and no nuance. The blown-up faces and the wounds are dwelt on more lovingly than the reaction shots. Where are Cronenberg's previously exhibited, extraordinary skills at creating weird haunting moods, at fantasy and psycho-drama? This may be an audience-pleasing piece of work to a greater extent than some of the director's more offbeat masterpieces -- it's one of the most obviously mainstream things he's ever done -- but Cronenberg is way off form here, and most of the resonances are in the eye of the beholder.

Excellent review Chris.
Yours is the first I've read that points out possible negatives.

I'm always looking forward to new films from Cronenberg.
It's playing here soon, but strangely it's not playing at the VIFF.

I don't feel the movie has much to say to me. Its explorations on violence are (for a Cronenberg film) really pretty safe. At the same time, it is really well constructed. There's feeling to it, just not as much provocation as people are letting on.

Haven't seen the film yet. Any films you feel provided more substantial "explorations on violence"?

Well questions are brought up by this film, and the first one that arose for me was "does every recent movie have to begin with a long take?". I've been noticing it a lot lately. Although many like to track and move all over the place, this shot is just long, and I think meant to be a little boring. We get a sense that these two men may be important, and in my opinion perhaps the center of the film. As we see soon though, they aren't exactly the main characters, but certainly the catalyst for everything that's going to happen.

I don't even remember the last time a Cronenberg film played in normal theaters, so I'm damn glad this one did. I now proceed with caution when I see a film of his that he didn't write, following the somewhat droning Spider. Based on that previous film though, I think A History of Violence is leaps and bounds above it, although completely different.

The violence here is also more grotesque than I'm used to seeing in films. Cronenberg has always had an eye for disgusting visual images, so I shouldn't say I'm surprised to see some of this. I'm actually a little surprised that the murdered girl from the first "dream" sequence wasn't shown, I did think that this was a filmmaker who would go there.

Thus sets up the paradox, visually this film goes everywhere. We see the grueseome violence, but what we don't get is the backstory. We're not sure why Joey/Tom mutilated the made man, and we're not even sure when it happened. Had the film been an extra 30 minutes long these things might have been revealed, but I don't think they are too important. The film is more about the great lengths to hide your past, and the inevitability of it catching up with you. Plus I found the film successful on a purely entertaining level. I couldn't help but cheer when Tom's son unleashed some of his inborn rage, it was richly deserved. On a psychological level though it shows how he very well could follow his father's footsteps, just as the son of an alcoholic taking his first drink.

As a side note to Chris, you really shouldn't have mentioned the last scene.

I enjoyed this movie and its intensity in the similar fashion of Crash (2005) and Traffic (2000). The relationship between husband and wife and father and son were excellent and not softened by sentimentality and seemed to reflect the ambiguity often found in real relationships. I especially liked the scene where the son defends the father but at what cost. The son's reaction afterwards well just icy.

The sex scenes actually appeared quite well done and naturally animalistic. I've enjoyed seeing Maria Bello in both this movie and The Cooler (2003). The flat affect on Viggo Mortensen's part also was quite appealing considering the nature and backstory of the film and this movie deals rightly in its focus on Viggo and his role in the movie and its implications says something socially important. The ending was well done also without necessarily tying up all the ends (an ending reminding me of the ending in Mrs. Doubtfire (1993)). The raw, gritty violence is balanced by the message of the movie and the contrasts can be said to provide a clear indication of hope and possibilities. So far this movie is among the top ten of the year.

Don't have much time for replies right now, sorry, but appreciated wpqx's comment on every movie beginning with a long take. It is looking that way, isn't it? They're going to date films the way the long intros before titles did in the Seventies, etc.

tabuno has some valid points in favor of the film, but I felt it important to counter the rush to call this a classic statement or auteur masterpiece, when it's really one of the most conventional things he's done.

***possible spoilers***

A History of Violence -- a great title, isn’t it? -- is as compact and precise as films get. It’s an object whose imperfections, if there are any, are hard to find with a naked eye. It’s at once both classically conventional and chillingly radical. Unlike other films by David Cronenberg, it doesn't feature teleported hybrids (The Fly [1986]), copulating amphibians (Naked Lunch [1991]), or a wound being invaded by a cock (Crash [1996]), but here we get to witness something scarier: a man being turned inside out... in front of our very eyes. Thematically, there are similarities between History and Clint Eastwood’s Mystic River (2003); and while the latter is vast, sprawling, and, yes, imperfect, it has moments where it goes even deeper than Cronenberg’s film, which is superior as a whole. The problems with Mystic lie with its "movie" part: the police procedural, extraneous characters, unsubtle sequences etc. And that’s something History’s lean screenplay, derived from a graphic-novel, avoids. There's not a wasted moment here. Unlike the morose Mystic, Cronenberg’s film is at once both a mainstream thriller and an art film.

Violence doesn’t arrive in Millbrook, Indiana, Cronenberg’s archetypal American town, in the shape of mobsters-in-black; it was already there. Early on in the film, we witness the son of everyman Tom Stall (Viggo Mortensen) playing baseball during gym class. After the high school’s bully gets caught, he glowers at him, insinuating revenge, then later confronts him in the locker room. This is the sort of "violence" Cronenberg establishes early on. He also grounds the film by showcasing an average family. Stall, who runs a diner is married to Edie (Maria Bello), a lawyer, with whom he also shares a daughter. Initially, Cronenberg slyly allows the Queen of the house in this small town to be in charge: her occupation vs. Stall's; him asking her for a ride to work; the woman even gets to initiate and organize their fuck-session.

Then tragedy strikes, and ultimately Stall’s past comes into question. It becomes a possibility that he may have lived another life in Philadelphia, as someone else. His family life starts to deteriorate. How does he confront it? By resorting to what he knows best, which is violence. He marks and claims his territory via a violent confrontation with Edie after she became aware of his "new" identity and started to resent him. This is where Cronenberg peels yet another surface: Violence existed within this man all along, and it exists within all of us in different shapes and forms.

That isn’t a profound insight, but it’s not Cronenberg’s fault that American cinema has rarely dealt with the subject matter. Eastwood, perhaps not surprisingly, has, and he came up with something spectacular and, to some, scary with Mystic River. And his harrowing display also started early on. Three kids playing hockey in the street are approached by a couple of ill-meaning men in a car. One of the kids named Dave might be physically bigger than the other two, but he seems more fragile, emotionally and psychologically, an easier target. Another kid named Jimmy seems cocky, as one guy even says, "So, you’re the tough guy, huh?" Dave eventually gets picked up due to his demeanor and because he lived the farthest away from where they were, but that’s also where Eastwood wanted to establish Jimmy’s "alpha-maleness" at a early age by having Dave in his territory, rather than the other way around.

And Eastwood never betrayed his aggressor, later on played by Sean Penn. Jimmy’s behavioral patterns could be attributed to genetics, friends, society etc. There are no exact answers, and Eastwood is wise enough to know that. Cronenberg never quite goes there, although his dilemma might be that his protagonist is both the abuser and the victim. But both men would agree that human behavior cannot truly be explained, by any science. So, it’s quite an accomplishment by both of them to boldly travel a terrain which not many have tread. And along the way, they allow strong woman to be an important part of the lives of their men. Maria Bello is less accepting of her husband, but unlike Laura Linney (Jimmy’s wife), she didn’t lose one of her own. On the other hand, in Mystic Linney had to reassure her man about the riches of their family, in History the man already knows: "Yes" is all we hear and all we need to hear when the worthiness of his new life is questioned by his mobster brother (a brilliant William Hurt).

But ultimately both films meet where they end. Eastwood’s is a spectacle, Cronenberg’s is as quiet as it gets, yet both reaffirm the most important concept there is: Survival of the Fittest.


A History of Violence - Grade: A-

_________________________

*For once it's great to be able to say that a worthy film is playing nationwide.

Under normal circumstances, my post regarding History would take the form of responses to selected quotes from Knipp's review. But Chris won't be able to properly respond for weeks. Why Chris' review? Because his is the one viewpoint different from mine, and because Chris likes to engage in extended debate_the main reason why I post when I could be using the time to watch more films. Chris becomes stimulated by disagreement, to my (and every reader's) benefit. So, rather than quote him in the usual fashion, I'll highlight a couple of issues in the hope of generating a more general discussion.

Chris' calling the film "so conventional" it's hard to believe it's a Cronenberg film reminds me of the reaction to Lynch's The Straight Story. Maybe conventional material in the hands of a masterful filmmaker overcomes its shopworn genre trappings. I propose that mastery is reflected in the way Cronenberg sets up our reactions to certain violent scenes and makes us explicitly aware of these individual responses. In this regard, I found three scenes involving Jack, Tom's son, most interesting. His diffusing of verbal threats in the locker room, his very violent response to similar threats in the hallway (it prompted cheers from wpqx and many people, I managed to repress them in typical passive-aggressive fashion, probably not a healthy thing to do), and Jack getting a hard slap from his dad (which probably did more to undermine viewer's sympathy and identification than anything revealed about the man's past). If this material is conventional, our familiarity is undermined by the careful calibration of tone and the manipulation of our responses on the part of the director. Responses that can lead to self-examination.

I'm open to the idea that A History of Violence is both "classically conventional and chillingly radical" (arsaib4), although I found little in arsaib4's post that supports the "radical" part of the statement. Perhaps you mean the two sex scenes, after all they are reportedly Cronenberg's contributions to the script. They are most interesting from the point of view of Edie. Is her cheerleader-jock fantasy prompted by Tom's diner heroics? The second sex scene truly complicates her character because it seems to say she is repelled and attracted in equal measure by Tom's violence. I find it hard to agree with CK's calling the characterizations "so conventional" and stating that "there's little real emotion anywhere in this movie, and no nuance". Bello's character as performed by Bello is certainly not simplistic or easy to read. I find one of the attributes of A History of Violence to be the way it refrains from burdening the actors with lots of dialogue, the actors convey a lot of character detail through posture and gesture.

Are most of the film's resonances "in the eye of the beholder" (Knipp). Wpqx talks about "hiding your past and the inevitability of it catching up to you" and arsaib4 talks about the violence within everyone and I "likey". Right or wrong, there's a mythic view of America as a place where one can erase the past and start anew, where one can have a "makeover". Certainly the notion of an inherent capacity for violence as integral to being human cannot be refuted. It can certainly be ignored or kept dormant. Tabuno mentions "the message" and that the implications of Viggo's role are "socially important". I wished he'd expand a bit. To me, not only violence but our varying responses to violent acts and to behavior that incites violence seems a major theme. Are these resonances in the eye of the beholder as Chris states? Even so, the mere fact that A History of Violence generates this type of internal and external dialogue is indicative of its merits.

I do have some time to answer though not the leisure I'd have when at home. I don't know if I can think, or if I have the film clear enough in my mind, but at least I can respond in some fashion. It's a good thing, don't you think, that there's at least one counter opinion on this site, coming from me, about A History of Violence? Because it prompts you to examine your thoughts more carefully, as you've done here; and because there have been quite negative criticisms of the film elsewhere, at least there were in the New York press around the time when I saw it. I don't know whether people who love the film are responding to it, or to what they would like it to be. It is a film that allows one to spin theories. It's suggestive. You might also talk about it in relation to the themes of Haneke's Caché (which is fresher in my mind), whose focus is on trying to escape from one's past, and deals with that theme more in terms we can all relate to, whereas Cronenberg's story relates to movie myth. You might question the verisimilitude of the action. Mightn't Viggo's character have lost his touch? Is a proclivity for violence equuivalent to being able to niftily protect one's property and one's employees in a sudden encounter? etc. I think this film is certainly a good topic for debate.

arsaib4's description, "classically conventional and chillingly radical", is a smart one. It takes account of objections and justifies them. If you can argue that the film is "chillingly radical," you have to acknowledge that it is also conventional and "classically" enobles this quality. But I meant that Cronenberg was more interesting in the completely unrealistic but psychically graphic Spider, for example, and far farther out in Dead Ringers and others of his films.

Your citation of Lynch's Straight Story is also astute -- though I don't think it's the same thing. Lynch's usual strangeness made the "straight" simplicity of A Straight Story itself strange and dreamlike; I don't think that the slam-bang action of History of Violence creates a dialogue with Cronenberg's earlier work so much as it just seems an anomaly or an odd change of pace for him.

What is A History of Violence saying, Oscar?

I admit to the prejudice of finding it hard to see how something from a "graphic novel" is going to turn out to be profound, sophisticated, etc.

Originally posted by Chris Knipp
I don't know if I can think, or if I have the film clear enough in my mind, but at least I can respond in some fashion. It's a good thing, don't you think, that there's at least one counter opinion on this site, coming from me? Because it prompts you to examine your thoughts more carefully, as you've done here;

Damn right. And thanks for responding, albeit under less than desirable circumstances.

there have been quite negative criticisms of the film elsewhere, at least there were in the New York press around the time when I saw it.

For me, the NY press worth reading is the Times and the Voice. The Times' Dargis called it a "masterpiece of indirection" . At the Voice, it was hailed by both Lim and Hoberman ("best competition film I saw at Cannes").

I don't know whether people who love the film are responding to it, or to what they would like it to be. It is a film that allows one to spin theories. It's suggestive.

Even so, can you see how this interpretative openness and suggestibility are highly desirable qualities in popular art? Can you see how great skill is required to achieve them? I'm talking about minute calibrations of mise-en-scene, script and performance too achieve the right tone.

You might question the verisimilitude of the action. Mightn't Viggo's character have lost his touch?

I believed the action as staged. I wouldn't know about Tom losing his touch. Maybe it's like riding a bicycle.

Is a proclivity for violence equivalent to being able to niftily protect one's property and one's employees in a sudden encounter? etc. I think this film is certainly a good topic for debate.

Certainly the three scenes I described involving Jack, as thought provoking as any in the film, would merit inclusion into any debate. No debate should exclude the second sex scene between Tom and Edie, which apparently came straight from the mind of Cronenberg. I'd love to hear a feminist take on it. It's times like this when I wish more than ever that we had active female members. But a male feminist would do.

If you can argue that the film is "chillingly radical," you have to acknowledge that it is also conventional and "classically" enobles this quality.
I'm thoroughly aware of the film being classical and conventional but I'd like more input into what makes it "chillingly radical". Perhaps what makes it radical is how the film pretends to be conventional.

But I meant that Cronenberg was more interesting in the completely unrealistic but psychically graphic Spider, for example, and far farther out in Dead Ringers and others of his films.
Well, can't deny that there are two Cron films I prefer to Violence and they are Naked Lunch and Spider. History comes mighty close to those two, that is, in my subjective appreciation.

Your citation of Lynch's Straight Story is also astute -- though I don't think it's the same thing. I don't think that the slam-bang action of History of Violence creates a dialogue with Cronenberg's earlier work so much as it just seems an anomaly or an odd change of pace for him.

Haven't quite, after one viewing, begun to look at rhymes and correspondences between this material and that of Cron's older titles. Dennis Lim's article in the Village Voice does a bit of that, if I remember correctly. It's certainly something to ponder during subsequent viewings.

What is A History of Violence saying, Oscar?

I wrote a paragraph about it in the previous post, incorporating relevant comments from arsaib4 and wpqx I found agreeable. This "violence-within" us and, I'd argue, also the disgust/attraction to violence and its perpetrators is a major theme. The movie is also a riff on (the myth of?) America as a place of rebirth and renewal. What makes the film special is how it implicates the audience without condescending to it, allowing for an honest examination of one's individual responses to the material. Lim's interview of Cronenberg brings out a political subtext but it's a stretch for me to think in those terms (that is, after first viewing).

I admit to the prejudice of finding it hard to see how something from a "graphic novel" is going to turn out to be profound, sophisticated

That's big of you CK. In case it helps, those in the know seem to regard it as a "loose adaptation". Moreover, I'm sure you'd agree that adaptations of literary masterpieces have been turned into horrid movies, and grade D pulp turned into masterful visual feasts before.

The lead character and his attempts to live a different life in this movie is a huge reflection of what's going on in this entire country and takes on a big socially important issue that impacts the very nature of our society - from a criminal to a socially accepted citizen to a criminal and back again. Today and, in particular, in Utah, the number of convicted sex offenders have risen dramatically as well as other criminal felons now being paroled and sometimes released early due to the lack of space in our prisons.

"The History of Violence" deals with a very real and for some very scary proposition that exists today of our living in our own neighborhoods along side some serious criminals, some of whom like our lead role in this movie are attempting to live different lives while others are out their preying on their next victims. If we are to follow-up on the movie's overall conclusion as reflective of what might be, then one might be more optimistic about living among strangers, yet as can be seen at the end of the movie, it will not be easy nor a completely comfortable one.

Interesting angle, Tabuno. I recently listened to a discussion on NPR regarding perpetrators of violent crime getting early release while drug offenders are remaining in jail for extended stays because the law is tougher on the latter. Laws often require mandatory sentences for drug offenders that leave no room for discretion on the part of judges and parole boards.
I'm not sure if A History of Violence's Tom was ever incarcerated though.

Yes, also Naked Lunch, and I think I'd consider The Fly and eXistenZ also, more Cronenberg's genre, the kind of area in which he excels. If you grant that you prefer Naked Lunch and Spider to A History of Violence, then I don't know that we really have an argument, except about what "mighty close to" means. A History of Violence is a film that asks to be seen and discussed, as I said, and that's a good thing. I simply think the discussion it stimulates turns out to be better than the raw material of the film itself, once you have scrutinized the film itself closely.

Quote:

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Are most of the film's resonances "in the eye of the beholder" (Knipp). Wpqx talks about "hiding your past and the inevitability of it catching up to you" and arsaib4 talks about the violence within everyone and I "likey". Right or wrong, there's a mythic view of America as a place where one can erase the past and start anew, where one can have a "makeover". Certainly the notion of an inherent capacity for violence as integral to being human cannot be refuted. It can certainly be ignored or kept dormant.

---

I grant that the film alludes to these themes, to violence in America, the myth or theme of redemption, perhaps even to the early release of vioolent criminals (though that seems rather far fetched).

But my question is, apart from alluding to these themes and/or situations, is A History of Violence saying anything about them? And if so, what?

Another question is, How do you feel toward Viggo's character? (I don't identify with him at all, not because of the screenplay but because of the actor's performance.)

As for the New York film critics, I suppose that is a minor issue not really crucial to this topic, but they are an extremely lively bunch and when Ii'm in NYC I like to read all of them on a film I've seen thought and written about and would certainly never want to narrow them down to the NYTimes and the Voice. Sure, among them certainly J. Hoberman ranks high, but I'm not so sure any of the NYTimes's writers currently do. Overall, on the basis of how she has read the totality of the films she has reviewed since joining the Times, for me Ms. Dargis has lost her credibility. In any case, if a lively voice is raised agains a film, I would take it seriously. The arguments against considering A History of Violence brilliantly original and profound were quite cogent.

I’m glad that so many members here have already watched this film. Usually it’s difficult to establish any continuity since most films that are discussed on this site only open in select cities and then remain there.

Looking at Chris' responses to the posts that followed his, perhaps he should write more often from Paris. Not only he rationally spoke for me in a way, but he acknowledged opposing reactions and hopefully gave us all an opportunity to re-examine our own thoughts. As I once told him, the site isn’t the same when he is not around.

Alright, back to the film.

"Classically conventional and chillingly radical." (me)

"It takes account of objections and justifies them. If you can argue that the film is "chillingly radical," you have to acknowledge that it is also conventional and "classically" enables this quality." (Chris Knipp)

"If this material is conventional, our familiarity is undermined by the careful calibration of tone and the manipulation of our responses on the part of the director." (Oscar Jubis)

Certainly, what Chris and Oscar have written applies to the statement. And yes, the sex scenes. "Is her cheerleader-jock fantasy prompted by Tom's diner heroics?" (Oscar Jubis). As far as I can remember, the first sex scene took place before the diner heroics. But Cronenberg certainly wanted to contrast that with the one near the end when Tom’s identity was questioned. I now smile at the aw-shucks grin he has on his face while waiting for Edie to come out of the bathroom. Imagine the sort of sex he had in his "other" life as crazy Joey. In the first scene the cheerleader doesn’t know that she’s fucking a bad boy, in the second she does even though the bad boy is simply being himself, and yes, she’s turned on in a way.
But we shouldn’t forget the brief moment where she’s sitting with bruises on her back contemplating what just transpired. She is, after all, a mature and intelligent woman, so does she want a man like him to be around her children, no matter how well he protects them? And as I mentioned in my post, the way Cronenberg set up her character initially was to measure her reactions to events that occurred later. She isn’t your average housewife of Palookaville.

And the sequence where the man turns in front of our and Edie’s eyes: on surface it seems ordinary, but the way Cronenberg has framed and shot it, it heightens our awareness for reactions both internal and external. There’s only a quick cutaway to Edie holding onto Sarah near the stairway. Cronenberg doesn’t want the audience to react by reading Edie’s face even though we know that she’s watching. Another cutaway takes us inside the second floor window and that’s when Tom’s slowly raises his arms with the gun in his hand. I had chills running down my spine at that moment. In the next sequence in the hospital when Tom says, "What did you hear?" Edie responds, "It’s not what I heard but what I saw." Perhaps she was also speaking for the audience. These kinds of scenes are fodder for future film students.

Even at festivals like Cannes and Toronto, critics can easily enter as many screenings of a film as they like, so perhaps it’s not surprising that many of them have brought up the comedic aspect of A History of Violence. And now that I replay various sequences in my mind, I smile, and if I were to watch the film again, I think that’d be the case. The critical conversation in the aforementioned hospital sequence would certainly apply itself in such manner.

The arguments against considering A History of Violence brilliantly original and profound were quite cogent.

I’m not quite sure who and what you’re referring to?