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A History of Violence  

Directed by: David Cronenberg
Written by: Josh Olson
Starring: Viggo Mortensen, Mario Bello, Ed Harris, Ashton Holmes, William Hurt, Stephen McHattie, Peter MacNeil, Heidi Hayes
Country: USA/Can 

              


Two ninjas

Reviewed by Hal Gray

Crash.

Sometimes, as a reviewer, it’s nice to sit back and let the cinematic dust settle for a few weeks after the opening of a highly anticipated film before offering up an opinion. For me, such is the case with A History of Violence. Festival season is over—History opened at Cannes and made a splash at TIFF and other festivals—and it has had what stands for a healthy run in theatres these days after it opened six weeks ago.

So, favoured son David Cronenberg has done well at the box office and among the critics except for the few whom will never like his work. Indeed, many of the reviews have been gushing, mainly stressing that this is Cronenberg’s most ‘accessible’ film to date, which when you think about it, shouldn’t be that difficult to achieve.

With some distance, it’s easy to see why. A History of Violence is a mish mash of some very popular films and themes. Let’s count them.

We’ve got Hitchcock’s mistaken identity schtick as in The 39 Steps and it’s near re-make North by Northwest (and oodles more). The Wild One with the honest cop issuing the warning ‘This is a quiet town. We take care of our own here.’ Cape Fear as a man and his family are harassed by an evil presence. A shameless rip off (or is that a tribute?) in the opening scene to Pulp Fiction. High Noon, where the hero is bailed out in a showdown by a flawed loved one who shoots a bad guy in the back. The kinky, violent sex from The Postman Always Rings Twice. Superman, as the hero changes personae as quickly as Clark Kent changes clothes. Toss in any Slasher flick with juicy blood and gore. And lastly pick any James Bond or Bruce Lee flick. Really. History’s hero can judo chop and twist necks with the best of them. By my count he offs at least 10 baddies.

So what do we have here? A dramatic-mystery-super hero-thriller-horror-action-sex comedy. Oh, the comedy? William Hurt, in a cameo, plays the biggest baddie and is so unscary and unbelievable as a mob boss, it’s worth twice the price of admission.

The story is a simple one. A mild, small-town Indiana coffee shop owner, Tom Stahl, dramatically kills two thugs who shoot people for no good reason. (Well, there must be a good reason, but Cronenberg doesn’t study the psychosociology of their motives too closely. Why confuse the American movie-goer?) The thugs hold up the coffee shop and are about to ‘do’ a customer when Tom springs into action. He’s an instant hero and gets deluged by the media as one will in these circumstances. Not long after, a sinister, black car shows up in town with mobster Carl Fogarty installed in the back. Carl’s from Philly and has a glass eye and a messed up face from a shotgun blast. Presumably, he’s watched the TV reports on Tom with his good eye. He thinks Tom is not Tom but a disappeared Philly hood named Joey. Joey is responsible for Carl’s ocular difficulties. He wants revenge. So, is Tom really Joey, or is he just Tom, a normal guy—well, maybe not quite normal; he’s got a hot wife who can’t wait to have sex with him, which doesn’t sound like any married relationship I’ve heard of—who just wants to get along?

[IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW THE FINAL SCORE SO THAT YOU CAN WATCH THE GAME WHEN YOU GET HOME FROM WORK, DON’T READ ANY FURTHER]

It’s revealed Tom is Joey, a ruthless killer who has had an epiphany somewhere in the heartland of America. Now his past has come back to haunt him. (Oops, better add Shane and Unforgiven to the list above.) The wife is pissed. His son is confused as dad has always condemned violence. But we know what must happen. Tom has a showdown with Carl and his henchmen and kills them all with the help of his son. The end, right?

It should be, but it’s not. For another 20 minutes of screen time, Tom has to take a two-day trip to Philly to kill his brother—the aforementioned role by Hurt—and assorted other vermin and scumbags. I’m still not sure why except that Cronenberg needs Tom to go somewhere so he can come back.

There’s a contrivance in Cronenberg’s films where the story is forced to serve his purposes. As a consequence, often things don’t make sense. For example, in History, Tom, hobbled from being stabbed in the foot, courageously runs a couple of miles home to save his family from a perceived danger. This scene is used to show his fortitude. Unfortunately, it also shows he’s not smart enough to call the friendly cop (or a cab) to pick him up. They’ve called the cop at least twice before this.

In another instance, they have the cop do a record check of Carl and his boys. He comes up with a wealth of information about crimes and commitments to the can and about Joey’s brother, another mob boss. But there’s nothing on Joey who as we find out later is legendary for his terror. At that point in the story it’s convenient for Cronenberg to keep Tom’s identity in doubt. It’s inconceivable, however, that the Philly police didn’t know about Joey. Details like this add up and become annoying.

Viggo Mortensen as Tom/Joey seems flat even when he’s committing mayhem. He’s quiet and self-effacing one moment and murderous the next but with nary a sneer. Making the killings gory and semi-realistic maybe shows us that Tom is capable of these grisly acts, but simply seeing him in violent action doesn’t tell us a thing about Tom or why he wanted to change.

The rest of the cast is fine. Maria Bello as Edie Stahl has a strong screen presence; Ashton Holmes as son Jack is involved in a promising B story that plays out much to quickly. Ed Harris eats up roles like the glassy-eyed mobster without breaking a sweat. And, as mentioned before, William Hurt is very funny, but unintentionally so.

Obviously, there’s something to be said about the truth that violence breeds violence, or that one can’t run away from his or her violent past. But A History of Violence says nothing meaningful on the subject.

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