TW: Racism
As a cinephile, I have never really avoided difficult films. Difficulty in cinema can derive from many areas, such as divisive subject matter, deplorable characters, and revolting images.
Personally, I can enjoy all of that in a film as long as the story justifies such content. Yet, I also understand why many won’t. Difficult films not only churn the stomach but can also leave lasting feelings of anxiety and uncomfortableness.
In fact, I can recall many films that disturbed me thoroughly from start to finish, even with a phenomenal story. I’d be happy never to watch some of them again, including a few of my all-time favorites.
Still, some subject matters can only be tackled with gruesome imagery and gut-wrenching moments. Many stories will only be diluted if they pull any visceral punches, even if that means some viewers will be alienated. They’re not for everyone, but some stories have to be difficult movies.
Despite their disturbing nature, difficult movies can be enriching experiences. They tell challenging stories and when done correctly, will stay with us long after they’ve ended. They can become prodding thoughts in our minds, begging us to try and decipher their wickedly complex meaning. I love being challenged, but a film that keeps me thinking months after I’ve watched it is truly a special story.
A few months ago, I happened upon one special story that was not just difficult but one of the most uncomfortable films I’ve ever sat through: Tony Kaye’s American History X.
For the unfamiliar, American History X follows former neo-Nazi, Derek (Edward Norton), as he tries to prevent his brother, Danny (Edward Furlong), from going down a similar road of hatred.
In addition to exploring the difficult subject of racism, the film also implements intense language, graphic nudity, and violent moments sure to unease the sturdiest of viewers. Unsurprisingly, this amounted to the uncomfortable viewing of a lifetime, but one that has also stuck with me unlike any other.
Ultimately, Kaye’s film is a memorable experience because of some distinct creative choices. For instance, the use of black and white during flashbacks creates a visual aesthetic that illuminates the racial divide central to the story. Kaye then sits with these flashbacks for extended periods of time, showing that the past has become intrinsically linked with the present, rendering the whole situation extremely messy.
But upon looking back, one integral creative decision certainly obtrudes more than any other. Of course, I’m referring to the decision to tell a story about neo-Nazis in the first place.
Only five years after Schindler’s List explored the horrors of the holocaust, American History X entered the world of racist people who idolize those same heinous Nazis. With a story centering around such characters, the film must also make the two brothers, Danny and Derek, seem sympathetic amidst horrible actions. The flurry of slurs and racist rhetoric makes this seem impossible, but Kaye does a tremendous job of fully exploring the psyche of these characters.
Through flashbacks, we get to see that young Derek and Danny were greatly influenced by their racist father, who was eventually killed by a black man. Unable to properly handle the loss, Derek’s anger explodes into racist beliefs that lead him to join a hate group.
Unfortunately, this inspires Danny to follow in his footsteps, who becomes equally bigoted. Of course, it’s never suggested that anger and loss are excuses to become hateful. Rather, the film supposes that holding on to anger leads to terrible things, such as losing part of your humanity.
Further, the film also shows that their hate group is as much a social group as it is a political movement. For instance, when Derek returns to the group after leaving prison, everyone is enjoying a bonfire and partying like highschoolers. This moment is not meant to glamorize their lifestyle but to show that each person here is just a dumb juvenile trying to fit in. Their alternative attire shows that they just want to rebel like teens do. None of them possess the knowledge or maturity to truly understand the complications of racism as well as the harm such a group instigates.
Only after going through his experiences in prison does Derek realize this, which is why he’s so intent on keeping his brother out of it. The group’s leader, Cameron Alexander (Stacy Keach), knows the evil he’s fostering, but the rest of the group he controls are naïve kids who’ve been brainwashed. They are no heroes, but this hate group is a far cry from the real Nazis that first started the heinous ideology being emulated.
Most importantly, Kaye ensures that his film never condones the main characters’ actions. He offers explanations by showing Derek’s troubled past and the fallibility of his mind, but still holds him accountable for the irreversible pain he has unleashed on the world. Not only is he brutally betrayed in prison by those he aligned with, but he’s also shown how the corrupt system has negatively affected black people in America.
Lastly, he’s forced to reckon with his choices by losing his brother to violence right before the film ends. Even though he has changed, he still does not get to escape the situation he has created. Neither does the victim’s family, but such is the reality of hatred instilling hatred instilling hatred.
While not building heroic characters, American History X succeeds by creating realistic humans who have become broken to the worst extent. It never condones racism, but it does look at the course of life that could turn promising young adults into hateful beings.
Kaye’s film has stuck with me because of how it dares to show where racism can boil from. It does not just draw a line between good and evil, but rather supposes that humans are flawed and can become evil in the worst circumstances. American History X reaffirms that racism is a complex human issue that’s unfortunately still ruining lives in the 21st century.
Of course, making the main characters of your story neo-Nazis immediately treads controversial waters. As I perused reviews for this movie, I found many insulting it for even attempting to make neo-Nazis sympathetic. Some found the whole project exploitative of racism, while others simply loathed its existence.
Particularly, quite a few reviewers felt that Derek deserves no redemption of any kind, as being a racist killer forfeits any sympathy. He’s just a monster who earns his tragic ending and probably shouldn’t have a whole film.
Although I disagree, I can understand where many of these reviews come from. Unfortunately, racism is an ugly force in the world that has affected millions of people. Most of them don’t want to see their attackers sympathized with or made heroes of any kind. American History X never calls Derek a hero, but it’s humanization of him is just too close for some viewers to condone. While these viewers would prefer an overt villainization of racists, Kaye’s film desperately avoids that, prompting controversy and disdain even today.
However, I then must ask, to what extent should we humanize characters? Racists are deplorable, but they are still human. While many are likely psychopaths uncapable of sympathizing with others, there are far too many racists for this to be the case. The unfortunate truth is that many people with fully functioning minds are racist, which is a terrifying sentiment.
As in Derek’s case, certain conditions and environments can lead smart people down horrible paths, even in real life. In stories, we tend to portray racists as awful monsters because that is much easier to accept than the truth. But that’s not always accurate. Sadly, there have been some brilliant people throughout history who have committed horrifically racist actions.
Now, portraying racists as monsters is not an inherently bad thing. Condemning racism is always an important value to uphold. It’s also important to keep telling stories of those affected by racism, which will inevitably position racists as the villains.
Truthfully, being racist does make you a villain. But the problem arises when we make a habit of refusing to sympathize with anyone who believes different from us including racists. Racists are morally wrong, but still human. As such, there’s still room for sympathy somewhere in their lives. We must never admit that they are correct, but understanding such feelings can help bridge communicative gaps and even alter such bigoted feelings.
Perhaps it’s just me, but I find more people each day who seem resilient to the idea of understanding one another. In our more polarized political climate, it has become common practice on both sides to demonize the opposition. For example, just look at the United States’ last Presidential Election. Both parties often proclaimed that the other side was evil and inhuman just because they disagreed over certain issues.
Once again, it is easy to refuse to sympathize with the opposition because it makes us feel right. We sleep better at night knowing that our opinions are correct and everyone else is just incapable of rational human understanding. But that’s simply not true.
In the last election, about 159 million people cast a vote for President. Roughly 51 percent of them voted for Biden, while 46 percent voted for Trump. In other words, just about half of our country supported each candidate.
While you can have your preference of candidate, it’s clear that millions of people thought both were worth voting for. You can demonize the opposition as much as you’d like, but it won’t change the fact that millions of Americans had enough reasons to vote for both Trump and Biden. Neither side are monsters, just humans with different values and thought processes.
Politics are inherently divisive, but it still seems that we are a culture less focused on understanding each other than with knowing we are right. Throughout American History X, this concept is challenged repeatedly. We are asked to sympathize with neo-Nazis, whom we already know are wrong. Then, the film dares to show the atrocities they instigate in gruesome fashion.
This awfulness culminates with the moment that sends Derek to prison in the first place. In the film’s most infamous scene, Derek not only kills the black men robbing him but relishes every second of it. He forces one man down on the ground, curb stomps his head, and smiles as he’s arrested.
It’s a moment that disturbs every audience member but is thoroughly enjoyed by our protagonist. We are presented with this atrocity and then still asked to root for his redemption by the film’s end.
In fact, the story as a whole tests the absolute limit of who we are willing to sympathize with. For many, American History X far surpasses that limit with its unforgiveable protagonist. But its merits and cult status show that many are willing to accept a hateful antihero as a main character.
Perhaps even more eminently, the film also forces us to consider whether a limit should even exist on our human sympathies. I mentioned earlier that Derek’s group is nothing like the real Nazis, but does that mean real Nazis should by sympathized with too? What about serial killers or mass murderers who also started off as normal humans? Honestly, I don’t know.
I can raise these questions all day, but I’ll never have a sufficient answer. Many will tell you that some people just can’t be understood or sympathized with, and they might be right. Once again, I can’t assuredly say. What I do know is that we should always remember that each person is just as human as the next. We are all fallible people making mistakes and trying to stumble through an imperfect world.
In American History X, human faults are stretched to inglorious limits, but the humanity remains there all the same. Derek and Danny are both racist, but they’re also broken. Racism will always be wrong, but if anyone else was fed hatred by their parents and given struggle after struggle, they would likely become an awful person too.
Still, that doesn’t excuse the choices they make and the lives they take. But remembering that these people are still human gives us the chance to understand them so that their minds might someday be swayed. You can surely demonize them instead, as it would be easier, but honestly, has that ever worked?
