Dinner and a Movie

Last night, my friends and I went to see A History of Violence. The trailers for the movie were enough to pique my curiosity, but then I read some pretty good reviews. The consensus among critics was that this movie would prove to be an intensely unsettling, thought-provoking movie that would raise questions about the nature of violence. On top of that, the movie features Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen in leading roles, and they are both good actors. OK, so, I enjoy thought-provoking movies. Check. I enjoy Ed Harris and Viggo Mortensen. Check. And off to the theatre I went.

The most unsettling thing about the movie? The fact that I paid $7.50 for it. Questions raised? Mainly questions like "Why am I still sitting here, watching this?" (Prompting the natural response: "Because, you're an idiot who paid $7.50 for it.") Thought-provoking? I must confess, the movie did provoke some thoughts on the nature of boredom.

Before you smug filmheads say stuff about me "not getting it," I will confess that I do see what Cronenberg and Company were going for. The movie seemed interested in exploring the following things:

• the relationship between violence and sexuality


• the concept of violence as a genetic or hereditary trait (Viggo's character, Sam Stall, has a son who struggles against a school bully)


• appearances versus realities (as the movie opens, Viggo's character comforts his young daughter after she has a nightmare, assuring her that "there's no such thing as monsters.")


• our reaction to violence as a society (read: desensitization)


• the reaction of people to violence in their own lives


• the question of whether or not we can ever escape violence (and perhaps, an extension of this would be the question of can we ever escape our own raging, animalistic tendencies toward it)


• the general senselessness of violence; all of the violent scenes in the film are offered quickly, brutally, and with little or no extrapolation. This isn't Matrix-like glorified violence, nor is it the ridiculous excess of Kill Bill or Sin City (despite the fact that it was based on a graphic novel).

I could probably list some more, but that would require me really thinking back on the movie, which I have no desire to do. Even though the movie intended to address these issues in a way that would perhaps stimulate some real issue-based discussion, I think it was completely ineffective. The movie seemed too conscious of its own structure, and it tried too hard to make some really poorly-envisioned symbolism meaningful.

Some have called the movie "relevant" and "timeless." Hm. These are the same adjectives people have used to describe Casablanca. This amazes and disturbs me.

Some have said it is "a film about truth and redemption." The truth is that I would like to redeem those two hours of my life.

Some have even gone so far as to call it "the best picture of the year." Yeah, maybe. If you like crap.

Going to the movies? I don't know if you caught this, but I'd probably recommend something other than A History of Violence. :)