Violence and Change

I finally watched A History of Violence. I waited for months to find someone who would watch it with me so I could talk about it afterwards. No one would. They either had already seen it or were unwilling to watch an "R" rated movie. What was the big deal? It was just a movie about violence and the damage it does.

What struck me most was how hard it is for a person who wants to change their lives to make that change. It's nearly impossible once a person develops a public persona to switch to something totally different and to have that new persona accepted. I've done it but I didn't get involved with organized crime and I never killed anyone.

For me, the story was just getting interesting as the movie ended. I was shocked when it ended. I hope some day there's a series about how a family like that could go on after what they had been through. It was also an interesting movie about identity and how who you are is so deeply embedded in an intimate, long-term relationship. Being with someone a long time and sharing crucial experiences is like being woven together into a fabric. Once the fabric is made you can't suddenly say, "Oh, well these aren't yellow wool strands, they're multicolored cotton threads." Or maybe it's more like turning the fabric over and seeing the reverse of the weave on the other side. No. It's more than that.

I'm really intrigued by how the family would continue and how they might work this trauma into their continuing lives and what compromises and bargains they would be willing to make to maintain their unity and love. It also opens up the whole definition of what is love and what is family loyalty. Those are more important than how violent the film was and whether or not David Cronenberg's directing encouraged the viewer to enjoy the violence. I didn't. I tolerated the violence because it was critical to the story. But I didn't like it. I never do. I did admire the skillful way they made it convincing, though.

Also, I didn't see Tom/Joey as a dual personality but as a person who had once been trained in killing and solving issues with violence, but who was no longer that person and hadn't been for a long time. He was forced by circumstances to make use of those skills again to defend himself and his family but he was no longer that violent person. He had redefined himself.

I might be missing something here. From the interviews I've read it seems like the movie had more meaning and impact for those who made it than for those who viewed it.