Review of American History X (1998) by Blake P — 10 Dec 2015

Hate isn't something we're born with, unless you're Damien from "The Omen" or are fresh out of Rosemary's womb. It is a feature of one's personality distinctly inspired by others - the kids of the Westboro Baptist Church didn't come into the world with the understanding that the right thing to do is to be homophobic and anti-Semitic. They were taught these diseases. Most of the population is able to cope by ignoring them, living bigot-free lives in the meantime - but knowing that groups believing that another race, religion, sexuality, etc., is so wrong that they would not oppose violence to oppress it is a terrifying, unsettling thing.

"American History X" shines a light on to the scarring truths of neo-Nazism in the United States, informing us that groups committed to their hate, committed to viewing Adolf Hitler as a sort of misunderstood Jesus, is a very real, very scary reality. Rationalism plays no part in their antics; it is rage that they disguise as social justice. The film is frightening, upsetting, and visceral. It is more relevant than ever, with Donald Trump's candidacy bringing out tucked away racism embedded in the worst individuals of the U.S.

Surprisingly, "American History X" is still, nevertheless, moving. While it gives us a taste of the brutalities of neo-Nazism, it doesn't waste away potential by basking in a senselessly angry rhetoric. There's a twist: what if one of the biggest doers of violence against minorities went to jail, realized his evils, and was reborn? The answer isn't as easy as we would like it to be. But it's a captivating one.

The film opens with a distressful sequence that details a carjacking gone wrong - would-be thieves make the mistake of targeting the home of Derek Vinyard (Edward Norton), a merciless neo-Nazi. Being mostly black, they are murdered in methods ranging from vicious to grotesque. Derek is sent to prison for three years, his younger brother, the impressionable, teenaged Danny (Edward Furlong), imitating his hateful tactics as he ages.

The present of the film is set during the window of the first few weeks of Derek's release. Danny has just written a paper praising Mein Kampf, and the skinhead movement is growing. But something in Derek has changed. Gone is the evil that nested in his eyes before; his body language suggests someone no longer compelled to always be in attack mode.

Flashbacks, photographed in grimy black-and-white, reveal his metamorphosis, and we unromantically witness everything from Derek's sordid days as a sadistic "leader" to his eye-opening incarnation, where he forms such a strong bond with a fellow inmate (who happens to be black) that it causes him to rethink his hateful ways.

So the film is intent on acting as voyeur to Derek's desperate attempts to inspire Danny to reconsider his life, reconsider his beliefs and wonder aloud if over-the-top prejudice is a path worth traveling down. "American History X" doesn't paint Derek as a saint (we very graphically see the atrocities of his past), making the film gripping because it analyzes what a shallow thing hate is in a thoughtful, nuanced way.

Tony Kaye's direction, unflinching and unbiased, presents the situation as is, letting the emotional undertones of the film hit us naturally, and, in some ways, guttingly. His instincts complement David McKenna's brilliant screenplay with fluidity; McKenna, so easily able to go back and forth tonally (authentically characterizing a skinhead crime spree only to suddenly transition into Derek's regretful present), gives the film its magnetically flawed interior. Kaye provides it with its instinctual exterior. We are never less than transfixed. It is even entertaining, despite its frequent dives into jerking uncomfortability.

The ensemble is just as monumentally stunning, if not more so. Norton gives the performance of his career, embodying Derek with such commitment that to go from despising him to sympathizing with him does not feel like a cinematic manipulation; his portrayal is multifaceted in ways few actors can imitate. We can feel his pain, his sorrow, his regret. Though I wish more time was spent following Derek's descent from all-American teenagerisms to neo-Nazi masochism, it doesn't corrupt the power of Norton's characterization.

Furlong is heartbreaking as Derek's vulnerable younger brother who will do anything to be accepted; in a climactic dinner scene that shows the moment during which their father passes his bigoted baton to Derek, Furlong is only a background figure. But look at the way his eyes change, the way they see that hate equals acceptance, love. Furlong's subtle facial idiosyncrasies and unconfident body language gives Danny a dimension that suggests that his hate is a result of social pressure, not of genuine disdain.

Even the supporting players, whose good work could be overlooked when behind the ground-shattering performances of Norton and Furlong, enrapture us. Beverly D'Angelo, the film's source of hope, is heartfelt as a mother disgusted by the sins of her sons that still manages to radiate with unwavering love; conversely, Fairuza Balk, as Derek's pre-prison girlfriend, disturbs with her inability to see past the fury that clouds her judgment.

Society will continue to contain pockets of narrow-minded individuals reactionary and caustic, but "American History X" uncovers the reality that racism and its fellow prejudices are something unfortunately characterized by the culture that surrounds them - hate, in truth, has no foundation besides a bottomless crevasse where misanthropy immortally lives. The only way out is to open one's eyes; "American History X" is unmistakably hopeful and unmistakably timeless.