The Brave One: Jodi's got a gun, everybody is on the run

Here's something that I find really disconcerting when I see a film in a theater: The main character will perform an act of vengeance that is completely indefensible and then the audience cheers. Now, I don't mean a crappy action film or some other comic-book-come-to-life movie where the characters are cardboard and no one's meant to take their actions seriously. I'm talking a serious film where the lead makes a choice to end someone's life in cold blood at the expense of their soul.

It's a scenario that the filmmakers have clearly created to comment on how violence begets more violence and the only way to break the cycle is to abandon your quest for revenge and learn to cope with your grief in a more constructive way. When the protagonist chooses to kill, not only do they perpetuate this chain of suffering, but they themselves are forever changed. Murder is not something you can commit without sacrificing part of your humanity.

This is a bad thing. A very bad thing. It should not be applauded. Yet, it seems that every time I see it happen the crowd gives an enthusiastic response. I find myself filled with outrage that the audience could be so callous and that they could so completely miss the point of the film.

I don't know, maybe I'm taking things too seriously. Perhaps I should get off my high horse and talk about the picture at hand, The Brave One (Warning: Spoiler Alert).

This is an incredibly well-made film that I absolutely hated. I don't have a whole lot to say other than that I spent the whole movie fuming that my fellow moviegoers "just didn't get what this film is about" while they "inappropriately cheered on a demented killer" only to discover at the very end that I was the one who didn't understand. Apparently, Neil Jordan is totally for vigilantism . . . and not a huge fan of the rule of law. So, I guess I'm the asshole.

Oh, and I know that Jodie Foster is almost 45 and probably not that into penises but she is still smoking hot. As is the dangerously-close-to-my-mother's-age Mary Steenburgen, for that matter. Say, let's see what we can do about getting these two ladies together.


"I am dark, and you are light."
"You are blind as a bat, and I have sight!
Side by side, you are my amigo, Negro, let's not fiiiiiiiight!"