In the end, I just have to conclude that I don't particularly like David Cronenberg films. And yet, I also have to conclude that he keeps making films that draw me in, attract my attention, and repeat the acute disappointment. "A History of Violence" is precisely what I asked for: it's dark, introspective, brooding and, yes, pretty damn violent. And yet it's not what I wanted.
The problem is with the direction, I think. While it's possible that Cronenberg has aimed to leave a trace of the story's origins as a graphic novel, the whole thing feels artificial and staged, a plastic world with plastic people. It's not a new problem, unfortunately. The blood looks real enough, sure, but the characters who shed it don't ever seem to have beating hearts. And that undermines the whole exercise: as an intelligent study of memory, instinct, personality, it'd have a great many merits...if it contained any human beings.
So, without that vital sense of involvement, you can concentrate on all of the other flaws, right up to the absurdly hammy climax. It remains diverting to watch, of course: there's too much here to lose your attention. But you're always watching, nothing more. Yet again, Cronenberg has tempted me in, promising so much. Yet again, he's created a film that loses its essence amid stylisation and conceit.
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