Roger Ebert described it well. The effects of abuse are similar to implanted medication. It continues to seethe inside the victim long after the original event or implantation. Nick Nolte stars as Wade Whitehouse, a shell of a man about to lose everything he has and knows, including his sanity, due just as much to his inability to learn to function as a person outside of the abusive environment he grew up in as his overbearing father's alcoholic stupors and redneck machismo. Nolte's mumbling has been criticized as indecipherable hogwash, but it's consistent with a person who has lost direction, confidence in himself, and his reason for being long ago. James Coburn plays Glen Whitehouse, Nolte's father, winning the best supporting actor Oscar for his mind-blowing portrayal of an abusive father who has simply played the same record over and over and over for many many years. Coburn's acting is a rare treat; in that, every action, gesture, nuance, and word of dialog coming out of his mouth makes up a portrait of abuse hanging in an imaginary gallery of contempt. Ironically, Wade and Glen share the name "Whitehouse", which of course symbolizes purity, goodness, and an idyllic existence all rolled into one but in reality is everything but that.
Nolte's character is a small town sheriff with nothing much to do except plow snow and double as a school crossing guard until a hunting accident occurs and uncovers a possible financial conspiracy. Meanwhile, Nolte must deal with fighting his ex-wife (Mary Beth Hurt) for custody of his daughter who has either been programmed by Hurt against Nolte or has other reasons for disliking him. Every aspect of and social interaction in Nolte's life reduces him to nothingness, whether he tries to buy his daughter a hamburger, plead with his ex-wife (Hurt), give a person a ticket for a moving violation, interact with his best friend or his boss, or has cross words with his father (Coburn). There is not the slightest hint of success in Nolte's past, present, or future, except for the possibility of his current relationship with his new waitress girlfriend played by Sissy Spacek. Watching Nolte's life unfold layer by layer, it's no surprise to viewers when Spacek bails on Nolte as well.
Director Paul Schrader wrote the script based on the novel by Russell Banks, and as in every good Schrader film, the acting and the dialog are outstanding. There is never a false note or Hollywood moment. Willem Dafoe, who previously starred in Schrader's earlier best effort Light Sleeper, plays Nolte's younger brother Rolfe who distanced himself emotionally and physically from this quagmire of a family years ago. So much so that Dafoe's ill-advised opinion regarding the hunting accident serves as the catalyst leading to a sequence of events, culminating in Nolte's Pyrrhic victory at the end. It's clear Dafoe's character did not know just how deep or how long Nolte's abuse was festering inside when Dafoe says "at least I was never afflicted by that man's (Coburn) violence". Nolte's character replies with "that's what you think" with a laugh and a tone of voice that makes it clear Wade Whitehouse has never been so sure of anything else ever before.
Schrader sets the film in New Hampshire (although it was filmed in Quebec) during a snowy winter and features several shots of bleak landscapes and dimly lit night scenes, the perfect complements to a script depicting one man's small world of despair and desolation closing in and trapping him like an unexpected winter storm. The script's dialog is balanced with fantastic scenes during which the characters reveal much by doing only a little at times. The flashback scenes showing Coburn interacting with his son(s) are like home movies in the Bizarro world; Nolte recalling a family life and memories not worth the effort but always there nevertheless. Sissy Spacek, as Nolte's waitress girlfriend, has a scene at Coburn's house with Nolte present, and she rolls up and tightens her hands in her face, realizing immediately what Nolte took a lifetime to do, if even then. Nolte's toothache throughout the film and how he ultimately chooses to deal with it serves as a metaphor for Schrader's exposure of Nolte's festering rage and his inability to appropriately express anger. He turns to violence, just as his father (Coburn) did, to assert himself, combat his feelings of inadequacy, and to solve his problems. Abuse and violence begets abuse and violence.
The film does not necessarily lead to any great redemption, resolution, or revelation. Instead, it builds quietly and slowly telling a story that many viewers are probably familiar with themselves, whether they share the similarity of alcoholic loved ones, a lack of success in their work or personal lives, or just shattered lives. It tells a story of how a man regresses from using his wits to his primitive instincts in order to survive emotionally. It's an interpersonal tragedy, and viewers with unflinching sunny dispositions may not identify with it at all. Viewers have complained about the film being too depressing, pointless, and a waste of their time, so liking the film a lot may be a matter of taste and tolerance, or it may just be that some viewers are unable to accept films without a happy or satisfying ending before the fadeout. ***1/2 of 4 stars.
Nolte's character is a small town sheriff with nothing much to do except plow snow and double as a school crossing guard until a hunting accident occurs and uncovers a possible financial conspiracy. Meanwhile, Nolte must deal with fighting his ex-wife (Mary Beth Hurt) for custody of his daughter who has either been programmed by Hurt against Nolte or has other reasons for disliking him. Every aspect of and social interaction in Nolte's life reduces him to nothingness, whether he tries to buy his daughter a hamburger, plead with his ex-wife (Hurt), give a person a ticket for a moving violation, interact with his best friend or his boss, or has cross words with his father (Coburn). There is not the slightest hint of success in Nolte's past, present, or future, except for the possibility of his current relationship with his new waitress girlfriend played by Sissy Spacek. Watching Nolte's life unfold layer by layer, it's no surprise to viewers when Spacek bails on Nolte as well.
Director Paul Schrader wrote the script based on the novel by Russell Banks, and as in every good Schrader film, the acting and the dialog are outstanding. There is never a false note or Hollywood moment. Willem Dafoe, who previously starred in Schrader's earlier best effort Light Sleeper, plays Nolte's younger brother Rolfe who distanced himself emotionally and physically from this quagmire of a family years ago. So much so that Dafoe's ill-advised opinion regarding the hunting accident serves as the catalyst leading to a sequence of events, culminating in Nolte's Pyrrhic victory at the end. It's clear Dafoe's character did not know just how deep or how long Nolte's abuse was festering inside when Dafoe says "at least I was never afflicted by that man's (Coburn) violence". Nolte's character replies with "that's what you think" with a laugh and a tone of voice that makes it clear Wade Whitehouse has never been so sure of anything else ever before.
Schrader sets the film in New Hampshire (although it was filmed in Quebec) during a snowy winter and features several shots of bleak landscapes and dimly lit night scenes, the perfect complements to a script depicting one man's small world of despair and desolation closing in and trapping him like an unexpected winter storm. The script's dialog is balanced with fantastic scenes during which the characters reveal much by doing only a little at times. The flashback scenes showing Coburn interacting with his son(s) are like home movies in the Bizarro world; Nolte recalling a family life and memories not worth the effort but always there nevertheless. Sissy Spacek, as Nolte's waitress girlfriend, has a scene at Coburn's house with Nolte present, and she rolls up and tightens her hands in her face, realizing immediately what Nolte took a lifetime to do, if even then. Nolte's toothache throughout the film and how he ultimately chooses to deal with it serves as a metaphor for Schrader's exposure of Nolte's festering rage and his inability to appropriately express anger. He turns to violence, just as his father (Coburn) did, to assert himself, combat his feelings of inadequacy, and to solve his problems. Abuse and violence begets abuse and violence.
The film does not necessarily lead to any great redemption, resolution, or revelation. Instead, it builds quietly and slowly telling a story that many viewers are probably familiar with themselves, whether they share the similarity of alcoholic loved ones, a lack of success in their work or personal lives, or just shattered lives. It tells a story of how a man regresses from using his wits to his primitive instincts in order to survive emotionally. It's an interpersonal tragedy, and viewers with unflinching sunny dispositions may not identify with it at all. Viewers have complained about the film being too depressing, pointless, and a waste of their time, so liking the film a lot may be a matter of taste and tolerance, or it may just be that some viewers are unable to accept films without a happy or satisfying ending before the fadeout. ***1/2 of 4 stars.