A History of Violence Review: Before John Wick

David Cronenberg’s A History of Violence is a bloody meditation on the nature of violence and the purpose of the human body.

The main difference between both stories, then, is in their tone. While the Wick films are delightfully absurd and gradually build a detailed and over-the-top universe with each instalment, A History of Violence doesn’t concern itself with the fantastical potential of its premise. Despite being based on a graphic novel, Cronenberg’s film is more grounded and gritty, treating its material not like a power fantasy or a glorification of violence, but as a meditation on the nature of violence and its consequences. Mixing sex with aggression and hidden identities with the carnal honesty of romantic passion, the movie doesn’t necessarily feel realistic, but it does feel more straightforward and lean.

Viggo Mortensen (of Lord of the Rings and Eastern Promises fame) plays Tom Stall, a seemingly normal man who lives with his wife Edie (Maria Bello, of The Cooler and Lights Out) and kids in a small town in Indiana. He’s the owner of a café and an upstanding citizen, and she loves her husband intensely. Their lives change, though, with the arrival of a pair of criminals (Stephen McHattie and Greg Bryk, the latter looking like a young Jason Clarke) at the café, who try to rob and even rape Tom’s costumers. Seemingly out of nowhere and out of self-defence, the apparently normal man manages to shoot and kill the robbers, becoming an overnight hero and an unexpected celebrity.

Tom’s heroics have their consequences, though. Edie starts wondering how exactly her husband managed to kill two seasoned criminals. Their son, Jack (Ashton Holmes), decides to beat the living daylights out of his school bully, apparently inspired by his dad’s actions. And out of nowhere, an intimidating man with a scar in his eye called Carl Fogarty (the great Ed Harris) arrives in town, claiming that Tom is not who he says he is: he’s actually an assassin called Joey Cusack, and Carl’s come for revenge. Tom denies everything, of course, but given his recent actions, there’s a chance he might have been lying not only to his own family but to the entire town.

Narratively speaking, A History of Violence is not a particularly complex endeavour. The story’s twists and turns, such as they are, aren’t very unpredictable, and when the film arrives at its inevitable conclusion, there’s a slight sense of déjà vu, as if one had seen a very similar story before, told in a similar manner. That’s not where the film’s strengths lie, then. If A History of Violence works, it’s due to the way it tells its story, and the themes Cronenberg is interested in conveying.

The movie is all about violence, its consequences and the physicality of it all. It’s about Tom’s (or Joey’s) violent actions and reactions; the way violent personalities can be inherited, and how violence can have an influence on other people or society in general. In that sense, A History of Violence is not a film that glorifies aggression, but one that presents it “as it is”, in sudden, brutal and graphic manners. Tom’s encounters with criminals and mobsters aren’t intricately choreographed affairs; they’re brief and to the point, conveying the fact that he’s an efficient killer, but not an invincible superhero like the aforementioned John Wick.

In fact, Tom is beaten up throughout the movie, getting stabbed in the foot by the criminals he eventually kills, and shot in the shoulder. He’s a human being, but a dangerous one at that, and someone capable of intense aggression, especially whenever he needs to defend his family. Violence is in his nature, both when he needs to react to difficult situations and in more mundane scenes. Consider Tom and Edie’s infamous sex scene on the stairs. What could have been rather gratuitous (admittedly much like Maria Bello’s full frontal nude scene right afterwards) and unnecessary feels like an extension of the characters’ violent nature. Even though it feels raw and aggressive, it’s not sexual assault; it’s consensual, but it’s rough, and it mixes violence with sex; hatred with passion; physicality with intense emotion.

It’s actually quite refreshing to watch a movie like A History of Violence, in which a married couple’s sex life is portrayed rather maturely and in different phases. As the film starts, we see them trying to “live the adolescence they never got”, with Edie dressing as a school cheerleader for Tom before they have sex on a table. And of course, by the end, we see a more aggressive side of them in the aforementioned stairs. It’s an interesting contrast, with Cronenberg seemingly telling us that sex is directly linked to the couple’s emotions and the violence in their life. The movie is all about their bodies and the way they use them both positively and negatively.

Now, if A History of Violence isn’t as masterful as it might have wanted to be, it’s because despite all these interesting themes and the mature exploration of aggression, it’s a bit too simplistic narratively. This might be a consequence of having Cronenberg modify a script that he originally didn’t like that much –he’s all about the thematic content, which is great, but at the same time, he’s apparently unable to make the story itself feel more interesting. Edie’s role in the narrative, for example, is quite clichéd; she’s the worried wife and mother and pretty much nothing else. And the ending, while satisfying, doesn’t bring anything particularly unpredictable or shocking to the table.

The performances, though, are all great. Viggo Mortensen plays Tom as a surprisingly kind soul; as a man actively trying to negate his violent nature. Maria Bello is convincing despite having a one-note character who’s more of an archetype than a three-dimensional human being. And both Ed Harris (creepy, slimy) and the late, great William Hurt (as Tom/Joey’s corrupt half-brother Richie) give appropriately fun performances. A History of Violence might not feel as original as it did twenty (!) years ago, especially when it comes to its narrative structure. But as an exploration of violence, sex and the way we use our bodies for different purposes, it still manages to fascinate. It’s amazing to see how David Cronenberg can take such a “John-Wicky” premise and turn it into something more.

A History of Violence is now available to watch on digital and on demand.

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