April 21, 2006

A History of Violence: A Not-So-Distant Story

By Tracey Marchbanks

Recent Entries in Drama

In Blood Done Sign My Name, Timothy Tyson asserts that pride blinds us from seeing just how close our worst selves are to our best selves and how our new improved selves are not so distant from our past selves. David Cronenberg taps into this same idea in A History of Violence (2005).

When Jack, a teenage boy, makes a surprise winning catch in a baseball game and is subsequently bullied by the opposition, he uses their words to make fun of himself and avoid a fight. Soon thereafter, his father Tom Stall is declared a local hero for shooting armed robbers. When the same ruffians threaten Jack again, he strikes them. Having seen his father being lauded for his “heroics,” Jack quickly dismisses the rules for dealing with confrontation.

Tom Stall has gone to great lengths to separate himself from his past, violent identity, from the “Joey” who enjoyed hurting others. Tom’s instincts and training, however, take over during the armed robbery and again at several junctures where he has to defend either his family or himself. He does not seem to take pleasure in this violence, and yet, he acts efficiently when opposed. He reverts to former patterns rather than admit his past deeds to his family and the authorities, just as he likely did when leading a life of crime. Before he returns to his family, he takes a plunge into a lake, washing himself of his former crime family’s blood.

When it becomes apparent that his father has a past history of violence, Jack doesn’t know how to assimilate this information. He throws a series of questions at his father, wondering whether Tom will now return to his violent ways, to his “mafia code.” Is his father “Tom,” or “Joey”? Though he has acted violently the last few days, Tom maintains that he is a very different man from “Joey.”

When Tom is questioned by a police officer as to why criminal types might want him dead early in the drama, Tom denies any past connection to crime. When confronted by his wife towards the film’s conclusion, however, Tom explains that he considered “Joey” to be dead, “killed” three years before Tom ever met Edie. “Joey” enjoyed killing, but “Tom” has no such inclination. Tom is so convinced that he has put his former life behind him that he no longer feels culpable for Joey’s actions.

The question for us, then, is whether the Klansman can be washed of his racism? Can the violent Joey become a man of peace? Can we really change? Or, does our pride, our desire to hide our past sins, lull us into being satisfied with the appearance of repentance because truly ridding ourselves of ills would require that we admit we are still sinners?

Posted by Tracey Marchbanks at April 21, 2006 2:21 PM

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