History of Violence, A (2005)

David Cronenberg's twisted take on the Hollywood western genre, A History of Violence, throws up the issue of identity and poses all sorts of questions about what we are. It was Rene Descartes who stated that "I think therefore I am." But what is 'I' and how do we go about revealing its secrets? We all have names to identify ourselves, but if we change the name, do we become a different person or are we still the same individual? To borrow from another writer, Chuck Palahniuk, author of the novel upon which Fight Club was adapted, asks: "If you can wake up in a different place, if you can wake up in a different time, why can't you wake up as a different person?"  This movie introduces the question but is the solution the answer to a different question; the case of the wrong man in the wrong place in the wrong way?

Viggo Mortensen plays Tom Stall, a modest family man and owner of a coffee shop on a pleasant street in Millbrook, Indiana. One night, just before closing, two men enter his diner with the intention of carrying out a robbery. In an act of monumental courage, Tom pours a pot of coffee over one of the men, seizes a gun and kills the two sought after criminals. Tom becomes a local hero and receives widespread media coverage. Take the moment where Tom recuperates in hospital from a foot injury sustained during the botched robbery and can't flick to a channel that isn't reporting from the scene. The celebrity status granted upon him displays our fascination with acts of violence and when one wonders why two teenagers decided to rampage through a school in Littleton, Colorado, it must start with the media. Television has become a stage where one feels that if they commit horrible acts they can become famous and receive notice for whatever reason they think they need it.

Eventually, Tom tries to return to his life of normalcy but is prevented from doing so when a few mafia thugs led by Carl Fogarty (Ed Harris) show up claiming they know Tom as Joey Cusack, the professional killer. Denying all these claims to Carl's face, and then later to the town sheriff (Peter MacNeill), Tom believes it is a misunderstanding and that he must just look like this Philadelphian criminal. Carl and his black car full of organized crime do not leave town, and their presence is felt by the Stall family. Tom's wife, Edie (Maria Bello), is distraught over the possibility that she doesn't know the man she married. His children, Jack and Sarah, both experience violence through a school bully and nightmares about monsters, respectively, and when Jack takes it upon himself to finally fight back at school, he overwhelms himself by what he is capable of. Was this simply motivated by a long-burning desire to teach this bully a lesson or was it his efficiency in hurting others passed down through genes and the titular history of violence?

Cronenberg fans may be disappointed by the lack of weird imagery offered up, but the story and the performances are so compelling that the first two thirds of the movie weave a spell of magic over the audience. The last reel of A History of Violence leaves behind a lot of the story threads developed, veering off on a completely different trajectory, one that is filled with brutal violence derived and shot as if from primal instincts rather than choreographed set-ups. The acting from Mortensen and Bello is hypnotic, and Harris makes for a chilling villain. The audience can relate to Bello's character since she is a symbol of our own ignorance to the truth of Tom, and we are in her shoes as she tries to read between the lines spoken by her husband and the mysterious out-of-towners harassing them.

I have heard some commentators refer to A History of Violence as the first genuinely commercial production from the Canadian maverick Cronenberg. I disagree. Most mainstream audiences will be wondering why the opening sequence refuses to cut and will likely be irritated by the lack of background music. Let us jump to a later scene where the Stall family sit awkwardly around the dinner table, a scene that transfixed me but annoyed others. A friend who came with me to the screening shook his head at the abrupt denouement believing it to be insignificant, but I would argue, without giving anything away, that it is actually quite powerful as it provides closure, if viewed competently.  This film lives up to its title if you are interested in seeing some violence. If you are squeamish about such things may I suggest that you keep your hands near your face at certain moments, or better still, carry a pillow in your arms.

And yet the movie is immensely enjoyable and engrossing. It seems to bridge the gap between art and entertainment with the way it plays out. The narrative is fairly predictable. Cronenberg resorts to using the same old patterns that every film tirelessly employs to present the high school tormenter, though few films divert into the territory of Wild at Heart. If it does suffer a slight sag towards the end, it is only because what has gone before it has been so compelling.  Does the film have a message for the audience?  Does it need one? 

This is certainly a film to take with you from the theatre to stimulate the mind later, but even if we restrain from employing an intellectual angle, A History of Violence is, on the surface, an old fashioned traditional western brought to our modern times. One of the trademarks of that genre is the inevitable last ride out of town by the hero after defeating the bad guys. Do you expect such an ending by Cronenberg? Would you prefer stylized action rather than gratuitous violence? One can appreciate much of this film from a logistical point of view, but the movie encourages you to shift your brain out of neutral too to fully appreciate it.

Final

If you are in the mood for a challenging film drenched in suspense, well, here you go. The deliberate pacing of the early scenes are effective, though perhaps could have been edited a little tighter. There is a nude shot of Maria Bello, reminiscent of a scene from Broken Flowers, but it is brief and essential to the narrative.  Whether Tom really is Joey is not revealed to us until just before the end, but before then we see how Tom changes as a person. In a naughty sex scene with his wife, who dresses and acts like a cheerleader, the result is an erotic and relaxing procedure. Later, in another intimate moment, the result is a scene of passion filled with aggression, depicting Tom as a man with hidden violence deep inside. Is this Joey coming back up to resume his dominant personality or something else? The movie radiates how any individual has the potential to be violent at any time, and that our identity is something intangible.