A History of Violence
dir. Cronenberg
Opens Fri Sept 30
Various Theaters
Like fellow avant-garde arthouse director David Lynch, David Cronenberg has always been better with the themes behind drama than he is with drama itself. Whether it’s 1996’s then-scandalous Crash, the confused eXistenZ, his adaptation of Burroughs’ Naked Lunch, or tracing Jeff Goldblum’s devolution into The Fly, Cronenberg’s always enjoyed the reputation of a filmmaker where all bets are off—unafraid to explore the darkness of both humanity and cinema, his films are consistently fascinating, if less predictably involving.
A History of Violence, his adaptation of John Wagner and Vince Locke’s graphic novel (with a screenplay by Josh Olson), examines physical violence alongside a sneakier sort—that of almost-forgotten secrets and the easy comfort of lying. Small town diner owner Tom Stall’s (Viggo Mortensen) life is unbelievably idyllic—he’s beloved in the town, has a sweet daughter and a dorky son, and a loving, gorgeous wife (Maria Bello). Things take a turn, however, when two desperate criminals attempt to rob Tom’s diner—and, in a series of movements as efficient as they are brutal, Tom kills them as if he’s been killing people his whole life. Tom’s life only gets more complicated when organized crime thugs—headed up by the menacing Carl Fogaty (Ed Harris)—insist that Tom’s really a killer from Philadelphia.
The moral questions here are secondary to the creepy story, which patiently unfolds with bursts of wince-inducing violence. Holding it together are the solid performances: Mortensen’s understated sadness makes Tom lovable and unknowable, Bello’s vacillations between anger and love are pitch perfect, and Harris (along with John Hurt) provides a chilling edge.
With all that, it’s easy to forgive Violence‘s few flaws. Cronenberg’s films are usually filled with an awkward self-consciousness that rewards viewers’ intellects at the expense of visceral involvement; here, though, he hits a good mix. There are stilted moments, but the plot’s momentum makes up for them, and while the film loses some of its everyday believability as it progresses, it replaces it with tough questions that are fascinating to watch play out. The violence of A History of Violence is of a sort that’s often hidden, but always present—making for a painful, disturbing story that Cronenberg is uniquely suited to tell.
