Sam Peckinpah is credited with inventing modern screen violence but his brutal style resembles little of today’s ridiculous images of men fighting on with missing limbs and multiple gunshot wounds. In Peckinpah’s world, men stay hurt. Putting reputations aside, Straw Dogs has more to offer than splashes of blood. It is hard edged realism; confronting, disturbing and delivered by superb acting performances and visualised in dark and harrowing scenes.
The quaint Cornish village to which meek mathematician Dustin Hoffman and his wife (Susan George) have come for idyllic seclusion reveals early menace in the licentious glaring of the local lads, who have taken an instant dislike to the strange American but do little to hide their simmering lust for her. In such a small community, where hard drinking men are bored and aggressive, they have a strange way of showing affection, especially for cats.
Hoffman has a hard time standing up to the locals but his nervous, passive persona is frustrated and this outwardly sweet man is cold to his wife and dismissive of her needs. She suffers for this frustration: Hoffman’s, the local bullies and her own. Her brutal rape is confronting and vivid, and turns many away from this film on the grounds of the underlying misogyny in the way this incident evolves. But Amy’s guilt lies in her naivety and inferences that she may have ‘asked for it’ add to the stark and horrific nature of machismo brutality. To criticise the film for this is to miss the point and deprive the actor of her one great performance.
The tension in this situation comes slowly but inevitably to the boil and as viewers we are always certain that something in this little Cornish backwater has got to give. Piece by piece the intensity lifts until Hoffman’s timid nature can no longer contain the pent up rage within him. It is now that Peckinpah’s belief in a violent right of passage for all men is realised in an honest portrayal of brutality as a scrambling, dirty, spontaneous and self perpetuating explosion of emotion. Sharp editing sets the pace and intensity in this superbly directed film, one of the Peckinpah’s best. Of particular note is the climactic siege at Trencher’s farm; a fog bound and hectic nightmare into which the viewer has been methodically drawn. I have seen a lot of criticism directed toward the misogynistic theme at the centre of this film but why should Peckinpah apologise for this? He does not hide the motivation of his characters behind political correctness; he sees flaws and he exposes them.
Hoffman is exceptional throughout, arguably his best performance. His character sets the pace, kicking up a gear as the film reaches its climax. Every emotion is palpable; from self centred and nervous, through heart pounding fear and onto brutal determination. The supporting cast are equal to the task, with every nuance and raw emotion of these backwater locals pitched with authenticity. So real in fact that if my life ever turns into a bloodbath of confusion and fear, this is how I might expect it to pan out.
The picture is typically sharp and has transferred well onto DVD for its age. 16:9 is available. There are some very slight marks on one scene but barely enough to notice. The sound too has a jump and conversations were a little too soft at times but generally good.
Special features are limited to filmographies and short written biographies of the star and director. This is a disappointment as I became aware of some very good extra features on the U.S release that were not included here.
If the modern audience has become desensitised by screen violence, it is not the fault of Peckinpah. He reminds us that violence is horror and death is final, unlike the slick, modern action films that often neglect to show the true consequences of violent behaviour on both body and soul. If violence is a rite of passage, the fare to be surrendered is staggeringly high.
