A history of my response to a history of violence
A History of Violence has returned to Pittsburgh briefly as part of the annual "Best you may have Missed" series this month which includes Proof, 2046, Grizzly Man, and Capote. I knew going into it I was going to watch a Cronenberg film. Because of that I planned to have my popcorn finished with a few minutes of it starting.
After the the first 30 minutes or so, I was getting into the rhythm of the violence itself, and almost wished I had a gun or something to make the couple who made SMALL TALK THROUGHOUT THE MOVIE behind me shut up. I mean, I went to see this at the Harris, run by the Pittsburgh Filmmakers, so I thought that everyone else their would be big time movie snobs with good movie manners. On top of that, they kept giggling at some of the bloodshed. I guess that is a somewhat natural response to the gruesome brutality---I think Elias Canetti had some particularly brilliant comments about laughter in this type of situation, but I don't have Crowds and Power handy--if anyone else does, please feel free to confirm or deny that and if it is confirmed, post something relevant).
About halfway through the movie stopped wondering why everyone was making such a big deal out of Maria Bello's performance. I thought it was just because of the cheerleader's outfit (which didn't even get Jennifer Aniston an Emmy). About ten minutes after that I started to question it again. Like Halle Berry's acclaim and awards for Monster's Ball, I guessed it had more to do with her performance in a certain, ummm, scene. But then again, that is something actresses like Janine do in 20 movies a year (where's her Oscar?)
In that same, uh, scene, I had to stifle my own innappropriate laughter because I was wondering what was up with Viggo's backside. It looked like he was sprouting a tail.
I was impressed by William Hurt. Ususally I see him in a movie, and I say, oh, there's William Hurt playing himself playing this character. Previous exception was The Village, where I spent some of the time thinking he was Timothy Busfield. But in A History of Violence, I was completely taken by surprise. I never once thought the usual; he really was Richie Cusack.
After it was all done, I was not ready to re-enter the world of Harry Potter and bedtime stories and Thomas the Tank engine. I immediately sought out a not-too-smoky bar and ordered a very large Bourbon Presbyterian. And then another. Yup, I went to see a Cronenberg movie.
After the the first 30 minutes or so, I was getting into the rhythm of the violence itself, and almost wished I had a gun or something to make the couple who made SMALL TALK THROUGHOUT THE MOVIE behind me shut up. I mean, I went to see this at the Harris, run by the Pittsburgh Filmmakers, so I thought that everyone else their would be big time movie snobs with good movie manners. On top of that, they kept giggling at some of the bloodshed. I guess that is a somewhat natural response to the gruesome brutality---I think Elias Canetti had some particularly brilliant comments about laughter in this type of situation, but I don't have Crowds and Power handy--if anyone else does, please feel free to confirm or deny that and if it is confirmed, post something relevant).
About halfway through the movie stopped wondering why everyone was making such a big deal out of Maria Bello's performance. I thought it was just because of the cheerleader's outfit (which didn't even get Jennifer Aniston an Emmy). About ten minutes after that I started to question it again. Like Halle Berry's acclaim and awards for Monster's Ball, I guessed it had more to do with her performance in a certain, ummm, scene. But then again, that is something actresses like Janine do in 20 movies a year (where's her Oscar?)
In that same, uh, scene, I had to stifle my own innappropriate laughter because I was wondering what was up with Viggo's backside. It looked like he was sprouting a tail.
I was impressed by William Hurt. Ususally I see him in a movie, and I say, oh, there's William Hurt playing himself playing this character. Previous exception was The Village, where I spent some of the time thinking he was Timothy Busfield. But in A History of Violence, I was completely taken by surprise. I never once thought the usual; he really was Richie Cusack.
After it was all done, I was not ready to re-enter the world of Harry Potter and bedtime stories and Thomas the Tank engine. I immediately sought out a not-too-smoky bar and ordered a very large Bourbon Presbyterian. And then another. Yup, I went to see a Cronenberg movie.
Comments
There is something laughter being a power move, like an animal feeds on fallen prey, we laugh at the fallen because we really can't just going around eating them. Or something like that?