David Cronenberg's A History of Violence, adapted from the 1997 graphic novel by John Wagner and Vince Locke by screenwriter Josh Olsen, immediately captured by attention. I was pulled in by the dialogue and acting and stayed for the themes and story. Every scene, shot, and line felt important, as well as the sequence in which they unfolded. Instead of starting with the titular character, Tom Stall (played by Viggo Mortensen of Lord of the Rings), two killers depart from a motel, having slaughtered everyone inside. In the next scene, we see Tom tuck his daughter into bed after she has a nightmare, assuring her that there’s “no such thing as monsters.” Hearing this line of dialogue right after the killer, Billy (played by Canadian actor Greg Byrk) shoots a child, had me paying careful attention to the dialogue and Tom’s character very early on. I was suspicious. Is he a monster, too?

Right after this scene, we see Tom working at his diner, where one of the cooks relays a dream his wife had where she thought she married a killer and tried to strangle him in her sleep. This conversation told me all I needed to know— Tom is some kind of killer, and Edie, his wife (played by Beef's Maria Bello) will find out about his secret. The movie went on to show how loving and wholesome Tom and Edie’s relationship is, which all but confirmed my theory. She even states he’s the best man she’s ever known. The dialogue is so intentional and well-placed that I could understand something was going to happen soon. When would it go to shit? When would the image of this perfect family be shattered?

When the two killers arrive in the small town of Millbrook in Indiana, Tom defends his diner and expertly dispatches and kills them, proving he is the one with “a history of violence.” At first, I believed him to be a former CIA agent or possibly a hitman. The latter turns out to be the case as a former enemy of his, Carl Fogarty, locates him and asks him to return to Philadelphia, since he wants revenge for the loss of his eye—a gruesome act perpetrated with barbed wire by the man Tom used to be, Joey Cusack, brother of a gangland boss (played by William Hurt). More great lines of dialogue from Fogarty ensue— “You’re trying so hard to be this other guy. It’s painful to watch.” He ends up admitting to being Joey Cusack and kills Fogarty’s men to protect his family. The tension within his marriage grows, and the secret is out.

What I absolutely loved about A History of Violence was the subtle acting Viggo Mortensen was able to achieve when he played Tom Stall/Joey Cusack. With minute facial expressions and adjustments to his body language, it was as if he transformed into two entirely different people. You could see in his eyes when he was Tom versus when he was Joey— a true visual treat to watch.

The domino effect that Tom's violence has on the rest of his family is brilliantly portrayed. After Jack's— Tom's son (played by Ashton Holmes)—flavorful dialogue and repeated denial of giving a bully the satisfaction of fighting back, Jack ends up beating the bully to a pulp after his dad kills the men at the diner. Jack later goes on to use the rifle to kill Fogarty and save his father’s life. Chekov’s gun goes off, and something is now unlocked in Jack’s brain. It begs the question: does he have the same instincts and skills his father does? What is he capable of? Edie cannot escape the violence either. In fact, we soon learn that it turns her on. Tom is ashamed, feeling as though he has corrupted his family and pulled them into the violence he believed he had long left behind. He thought he had killed Joey Cusack, his former self, but was disappointed to find he had only been lying dormant. I believe the themes of self-knowledge, identity, and having a history of violence is fantastically embodied not only through Tom's character, but also his effect on his family. Without his family as a part of the equation, a wholly accurate portrayal of the themes would be missing. Tom would be unable to accept and move forward with his identity, and there would be no consequences of his past violence to show the continuing cycle.

When he confronts his brother, Richie, the film proves once again that it has fantastic dialogue. “I’m pretty pissed at you, bro-heem!” I love it! Tom kills his brother and returns to his family. I adored the final scene. There is no setting for him at the dinner table, and Jack and Edie stare at him with . . . what? Hatred? Anger? Reluctant acceptance? Exasperation? Maybe all of these things and more. But Sarah, only ten years old, is just happy to see her father again. She still loves and accepts him, giving him a place setting at the table. He sits down, and Jack follows in his sister’s kindness, giving him some helpings of dinner. Will Edie forgive him as well? The film leaves it ambiguous, but I believe she will.

I absolutely enjoyed A History of Violence, and I would definitely recommend it to others. With great dialogue, acting, well-thought-out themes, and the careful and intentional way violence is shown in the film, it would be a crime if I did not.

Scout Baldwin is a New York-based animator and illustrator currently majoring in 2D Animation as a part of SVA's class of 2024. Her short story "Pyre" is also published in this issue. Scout's artistic inclinations lie in character, background, and prop design; though her career is oriented toward working in the visual development field, she has always held a passion for reading and writing. There is something incredibly romantic and beautiful about the genre of horror, a sentiment that will continue to intrigue and entice her to keep engaging with new stories. Horror or romance? Why not both?