A History of Violence (2005)

Directed by: David Cronenberg

Starring: Mario Bello, Ed Harris, William Hurt, Viggo Mortensen

I remember when this movie came out years ago and I chose not to see it, despite its rave reviews, because of its notoriously grizzly and shocking scenes of violence. I have been reading review after review, however, claiming that such scenes are not gratuitous, but are meaningful, integral to the story, and meant to shock you, so that you feel the real impact of violence on people's lives. So I decided to take a chance and see it.

The film begins with the "bad guys." They are having a slow morning at their motel. They are tired from too many days on the job, and move with sluggish reluctance. This is an interesting way to begin the film. So often films of this sort begin with the protagonist, and to start with the antagonists puts the audience on their side for a moment, starts the film off from their perspective. I won't give away the rest of the scene, but I will say that it ends with a whimpering child, holding a doll, and cuts to an angelic looking child screaming after a nightmare, in the home of the "hero," Tom Stahl. This is a cheap trick. It strips the scenes of their credibility (you can see in the girl's eyes that the director just said, "Ok, and remember after I say 'action' you scream and don't look at the camera") and is clearly an easy and in-genuine tug at our heartstrings.

Looking back on the film I see scenes rather than substance, scripted lines rather than atmosphere, cut-out characters rather than real people.

This is an interesting idea, and one with great potential, but it is hardly fulfilled here.

Another Look

Closer (2004)

Directed by: Mike Nichols

Starring: Jude Law, Clive Owen, Natalie Portman, and Julia Roberts

Art has two faces. One which has the ability to communicate at a depth which connects us, and one to exploit. Like the truth. The truth can heal, can build, can bind. It can be told out of pain to ease the pain of another. Or it can be told out of a self-satisfying masochism, to both feel the pain and watch it carve its forms into someone else. Closer explores these two faces and it brings us, willing or no, into the discourse. There is something strangely seductive and satisfying about listening to these people bear all, speak with such frankness, even in their deception, about their deception.

What I love about this film is that it is, it has to be, self-aware. We are not simply watching the characters, we are the characters. Not in our actions, perhaps, but in our fascination with truth, with deception, and with seeing pain made beautiful; romanticized. As Portman says, it makes us feel better. The photo exhibition in the second act act of the film implicates the audience, since Closer itself is like the exhibit: we are watching people experience pain. Someone writes about it beautifully, photographs it beautifully, and acts it beautifully, and so the pain, even at its most ugly, becomes beautiful. If you don't agree, look up the reviews from critics, who all agree that Closer is a great film. Art.

Of the truth, Law's character says, "with out it, we're animals," but with it, these characters are at their most brutal. It's not about the truth, it's about our intentions with it. And it's not about our intentions with it, it's about our subsequent actions. Why do we tell the truth? Why do we create art? Why do we communicate? Is it because we want to feel something deeper than our superficial layer to what we share beneath it all? Is it to bring us closer? Have you ever told the truth, not because it was the right thing to do or because it was brave, but out of self-righteousness or because you knew it would hurt the other person? This film toys with the fine line that exists here. It brings up questions about art, about love, and about our relationships with one another.

I saw Closer in high school and all I remember is a strange kind of draw to the rawness of the characters and the way they spoke to one another. Seeing the film again, six years later, I realize that this is exactly the feeling Nichols must hope his audience will leave with, and hope, further, that they will take the time to examine. It raises some fascinating and troubling questions.

Recommendations

Dark City (1998)

Directed by: Alex Proyas

Starring: Rufus Sewell, Jennifer Connelly, Kiefer Sutherland, William

Hurt

If you love sci-fi, and I mean good sci-fi, Dark City is a treasure. Starring Rufus Sewell and Jennifer Connelly, this is a fascinating and thought-provoking film that always leaves me tingling with excitement at the imagery and imagination. If you want to take it a step further, I would suggest renting Fritz Lang's Metropolis (1927) to compare and contrast the two films. Metropolis is the film that started it all, and you'll find the messages shockingly applicable to today's social climate.

Brick (2005)

Directed by: Rian Johnson

Starring: Joseph Gordon-Levitt,

Nora Zehetner, Lukas Haas, Emilie de Ravin

If you missed Brick's quick and quiet release in 2005, or if your only memory of Joseph Gordon-Levitt is as an over-the-top, hardly promising young actor in Third Rock from the Sun, go check out this movie. This one film convinced me that Levitt is a truly talented actor. Additionally, if you have any interest in film noir, or even if you don't, this film is a great new addition to this classic genre. Set against the back drop of a high school in southern California, this is not a high school movie. It's dark, atmospheric, with cutting, often criptic dialogue and beautiful homages to old film noir (the scene at the end on the football field, pictured above, is as classic as it gets). This is a great example of post-modern film noir.