A Viggo Mortensen/David Cronenberg comic book adaptation was not what I expected to be watching. But I rarely pass up the opportunity to take in an interesting looking 90-minute film.
At a high level the story feels like light. A man hiding from past has to face it. But there’s more here, and it’s not just some intense performances.
Fictional violence is glamorised. We’re often given good reason to root for it, and there’s no denying that the skill in displaying it is impressive. But violence in real life is ugly. It leaves scars, physical and emotional, and it’s not for the faint of heart. In real life we don’t celebrate it. It’s rarely the right answer.
But what if it is? What if we do like it? What if it’s some kind of guilty pleasure? We can’t outwardly celebrate it, but we all know someone who could do with a punch in the face. Throughout A History of Violence’s relatively brief runtime, we’re asked this. Is it sometimes the only answer? Is it cathartic?
The film doesn’t answer any of these questions. It doesn’t care to, and I appreciate that.
Be the first to comment