Screenwriter Ernest Lehman said that Alfred Hitchcock had an array of scenes he wanted to put into a movie, but could never work them into any of the pictures that he did. Apparently, he and Lehman were supposed to be working on The Wreck of the Mary Deare, but it was a project in which Hitch was totally uninterested, so he wasted their writing time talking about what kind of things he would like to write and shoot. When they had a conference with studio bigwigs to report on the progress of their still-not-started script, Hitch asked their indulgence so he could get their feedback on a project he had in mind. He proceeded to describe all the scenes he wanted to shoot, glossing over the connecting bits he hadn’t come up with yet, and tied them all together in such a way that the movie execs ended up dismissing him from the Wreck and compelling him to do the film he was describing. It became North by Northwest.
Somehow, I get the feeling Cronenberg shot A History of Violence this way. He had a couple of fairly graphic sex scenes and quite a few more very graphic fight scenes he wanted to use in a picture somehow. He wove these scenes around some very one-dimensional characters and together with a very unbelievable, vapid, and cliched storyline and – voila!—A History of Violence was born. Or maybe he just got inspired by The Long Kiss Goodnight, which did this latent-killer-disguised-as-middle-American theme so much better, and took a very unoriginal shortcut in the process.
Sad because, individually, I usually like the work of the bulk of the actors in this film, but together, I just didn’t believe them. I didn’t buy the family relationship. I didn’t buy that one guy who was characterized by his brother as so violent and deranged that he even disgusted violent career criminals could suddenly change and become Mr. White Bread America so completely his wife didn’t recognize him as anything else and yet—after 16 years of middle America—he suddenly busts out the “I’ll kill you with my bare hands” moves as if he did it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner every day of the week. I didn’t buy that a nerdy smart kid who has been harrassed and picked on every day of his school life and accepted it docilely is suddenly going to beat up on his aggressor and win. Beat up on his aggressor and lose, maybe, but if he is that good at fighting, why didn’t he just deck the guys months before and get it over with? And then the best his dad can come up with is “Son, you know we don’t handle our problems with violence?” And this is supposed to be an understanding, loving parent-child relationship? Maybe a schizophrenic, the-director-can’t-figure-out-what-kind-of-family-we-have-here relationship…
I hated the unfinished business throughout this movie. Is Cronenberg some kind of attention-deficit-disorder director? For example, there is a scene where the son Jack and his girlfriend are sitting around talking. Next, you see the bully driving by in the pick-up truck. He and his bully buddy decide to go teach Jack a lesson, cutting a u-turn in front of the vagrant homicidal maniacs in the process. Suddenly, we see the vagrant homicidal maniacs talking about where they are going to get money. Huh? No follow-up to what happened with Jack and the bully—nothing, nada, zip.
The only character I did like was William Hurt and I only liked him in a sick, black-humor kind of way. If the whole movie had been shot in that kind of sick, black-humor type of vein, it might have salvaged itself. But alas—it took itself way too seriously for the flawed project it is.
This movie is poorly written, poorly directed—well, I could go on, but I would just start repeating unFunGames in the way Cronenberg has repeated the worst parts of way too many action films and we know where that kind of thing would get us.