A History of Violence had several elements that attracted me. The clip that was shown on the TV talk show circuit — a small town diner scene in which the proprietor’s identity is questioned by an intimidating visitor — was very compelling. Viggo Mortensen, who plays that proprietor, was likeable on those TV shows. Ed Harris, the intimidating visitor, is one of my favorite actors. The director, David Cronenberg, has turned out a couple of movies that I have enjoyed: Videodrome (1983) was unusual, and The Fly (1986) was very entertaining. Maria Bello is a good-looking woman.
I am also a sucker for any movie set in an old farmhouse. Images from Country (1984) and The River (1984) inform my tastes to this day. Films like those make me want to put on my field boots and barn coat and go out into the garage and wipe something off with an oily rag. For years I longed to live in a house exactly like the one in The Stone Boy (1984). And of course I loved Tender Mercies (1983), the granddaddy of all the great 1984 rural residence flicks.
Another element that appeals to me is choreographed, far-fetched violence. Kill Bill, Vol. 1 (2003) and Kill Bill, Vol. 2 (2004) is one of my all-time favorite movies. Heck, I’ll even admit to enjoying Lethal Weapon (1987). There’s something very satisfying about seeing every last one of the bad guys finally get theirs from the impossibly outnumbered protagonist.
A History of Violence had these things going for it, and as it unfolded, it began to build on them. A potentially interesting father and son relationship was thrown into the mix and, combined with the rural homelife and the violence, resulted in a couple of gripping moments. Viggo Mortensen was fine. Ed Harris was quite good, and Maria Bello didn’t get a lot to do besides adding a feminine presence.
When the picture hit a crucial turning point in its last quarter, however, it completely fell apart. There was a mildly disturbing sex scene which didn’t quite succeed in conveying the conflicted emotions of the characters. There was some very brief frontal nudity from Maria Bello which seemed stuck in just so there would be some very brief frontal nudity.
Shortly thereafter came the introduction of William Hurt, which signaled the end of any possible suspension of disbelief and the beginning of a truly mockable gem of a motion picture. I don’t like to spoil movies, so I’ll just say that if you think it’s worth watching one just to see a laughably bad performance by William Hurt, rent A History of Violence for its final 20 minutes. Imagine Rob Morrow portraying Tony Soprano in a wacky Northern Exposure dream sequence.
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