A Cheery Night at the Movies

'The past isn't dead. It isn't even past.' Too bad Tom Stall missed that little memo from Faulkner. As his perfect Rockwellian life (complete with hot wife in cheerleader outfit; Grillmistress take notes!) unfolds in the opening minutes of 'A History of Violence,' the Grillmaster and his viewing mates just knew that something was amiss. Amiss indeed! 90 minutes later, as the three of us stumbled across the Key Bridge attempting to make sense of this intensely powerful, violent presentation of the endurance of the past, we arrived only at the preliminary conclusion that filmmaker David Cronenberg had something important to say. We were too awash in blood and inexplicable William Hurt cameos to figure out quite what that might be.

In search of guidance, the Grillmaster foolishly turned to the pros: movie reviewers. Upon perusal, I can confidently report that 90% of critics in the country missed a HUGE part of this film. One gets the distinct impression that they too were overwhelmed by its power, but unfortunately had deadlines to meet and didn't have time to give this the reflection it deserved. They tended to get the most obvious point right: The movie is a challenging look at the viral nature of violence in families and communities, and our own complicity in that uniquely American epidemic. Tom's violence, even when wholely justified to kill some deliciously evil men, infects his wife, son, and daughter in ways he can't possibly anticipate.

And violent Tom is. As bad guys ask throughout the film, 'How come he's so good at killin' people?' What makes the violence of 'History' not only acceptable but PRODUCTIVE is that it makes the audience gasp, occassionally laugh, and squirm. As the camera lingers for uncomfortable seconds on the shattered human face of a dispatched serial killer, cheers of victory catch in your throat. Surely Tom was in the right? Of course. But the point Cronenberg makes brutally throughout the movie is that violence and killing aren't cheap, aren't clean, and should make us squirm. In an age in which directors seem to be in competition to make killing beautiful and more stylized, Cronenberg deserves credit for his brutal honesty.

So kudos to the critics for getting the obvious. Bravo. There's only one problem: the ending! 'History' isn't just a movie about violence; it's a movie about violence AND the one word that is totally absent from nearly every review I've read: redemption. The Village Voice didn't get it. Neither did the Washington Post. Nor Entertainment Weekly. The New York Times at least mentions the word, but only to pass judgment on the acts of violence, not the man carrying them out. The one mainstream guy I could find who did get it was none other than Roger 'My Thumb's Always Up' Ebert. Can you ever get beyond a history of violence? That's the really troubling part of the movie, brilliantly presented by Cronenberg and entirely unappreciated by most critics.

The movie's answers are worth considering. The obvious answer is that one can't simply run from the past. 'Tom' takes a mythical journey through the desert to construct his new life, does everything right once finding his Beatrice in Maria Bello's character Edie, and yet STILL has violence in his bones when the mob comes calling. It's straight out of Faulker among others, and a lesson that's worth remembering.

The movie's ending is more ambiguous and powerful. If it is futile to run from your past, might it be possible to confront the past and overcome it? Tom has certainly confronted his past by movie's end, violently defended himself and his family, and attempted to wash himself clean of his brother's blood in a powerful scene of renewed baptism. He comes home to a family forever changed. His history of violence has become their own. In Edie's tears and his children's silence there is anger, fear, but also apparently a determination to endure together. Like 'Crime and Punishment,' you have a feeling the story ends at the most important part. That is probably for the best. I'm not sure Cronenberg would do as well with that part of the story, and besides, 98 minutes gave more than enough material for the walk home.