God's Lonely Man
Paul Schrader has spent his life telling stories of men tormented by demons real and imagined. In 1976, his script for Taxi Driver articulated a type of alone-ness often felt but never before seen on the screen. His films (as screenwriter, director, or both) have depicted a wide range of American realities—Los Angeles’s glittery illicit nightlife in American Gigolo (1980), the nonstop pace of an EMT’s nightly rounds in New York City in Bringing Out the Dead (1999). At the core of these fictions are his characters’ search for meaning, their anxious wanderings toward an answer that will justify life’s pain. Schrader’s dramas tell stories which range from spiritual enlightenment through sacrifice to a cathartic unleashing of anger in the form of a violent bloodbath.
1997’s Affliction, scripted and directed by Schrader, lies somewhere in the middle. Wade Whitehouse (played by Nick Nolte) is middle-aged and treading water. He lives in the same New Hampshire town of Lawford where he was born and raised. He drinks too much, works a series of menial jobs (including honorary sheriff), and sees his daughter every other weekend. Underneath this working-class-sadness life is a malignant melancholy, a melancholy that propels Wade from one bad decision to the next, thwarting any dreams he may have had about becoming a stable member of the community. Drunk, he’ll call his brother, Rolfe, late at night, ranting about the latest slight to his pride and the imagined transgressions perpetrated by his coworkers, his boss, his ex-wife . . .
Rolfe (Willem Dafoe) is aloof and detached from Wade and his family’s hometown troubles. He left for the nearest big city of Boston as soon as he could and never looked back. It’s Rolfe’s austere and semi-objective narration that anchors the film through Wade’s final season in Lawford. One night, to keep their conversation interesting, Rolfe encourages Wade’s theories about a recent fatal hunting accident involving a prominent member of Lawford. Wade suspects foul play and is determined to get to the bottom of it to prove his worth as sheriff. Speaking with hindsight, Rolfe calmly admits at the start of the film in voice-over, “I should have known terrible things were about to happen.”
Both men are haunted by their childhood—one that’s only hinted at at first—an upbringing traumatic enough to drive both men into escapism though either distance or alcohol. The monster in the room is their father, Glen (James Coburn). Coburn doesn’t appear until nearly an hour into the film, but his threatening presence is felt from the first frame. Whenever his father is mentioned Wade is thrown off-kilter, either dismissing the town’s rumors of Glen’s abusive behavior when the boys were young or throwing himself into a self-improvement mania in an effort not to “end up like his old man.”
Sure Glen drinks, lots of fathers drink. What is unique about the Whitehouse patriarch is his viciousness that saturates every word he says toward anyone in his family. Despite the overwhelming venom of his opinions Glen is both despicable and magnetic, his biting wit and precise timing yielding giggles that choke in your throat. Wade, a hulking figure who intimidates by size alone, shrinks and becomes a different person around his father. Nolte immediately softens into the cowering boy Wade was at ten in scenes with Coburn, flinching when he knows Glen is about to land a punch, a smack, or a few choice words that will leave an even deeper wound.
Despite their tense relationship, Wade tries to take a more active role in his father’s life, helping him maintain the family home after his mother’s death. He also proposes to his longtime girlfriend, Margie (Sissy Spacek); drops the conspiracy theories about Lawford’s supposed unsolved murder; and develops a plan to win custody of his daughter. But Wade underestimates two things—his father’s delight in seeing those around him suffer, and his own capacity for rage. It’s a rage that began when Wade was a helpless child, and now it’s building outward and will eventually be unleashed on those who love him.
Affliction is based on the 1989 novel of the same name by Russell Banks. The film’s action is indelibly affected by the harsh New England winter that is anything but cozy. The snow, the wet, and the early evenings all enhance the difficulties that Wade has in managing his life and keeping his head above water. Just like other Schrader heroes Travis Bickle or Jake Lamotta, Wade’s subjective sense of reality becomes his only truth, and as his life veers further away from his well-made plans we become complicit in believing his distorted reality full of conspiracies and injustice (that only Wade can set right).
Compared to some of his other films that have a heavier hand toward shock and violence (Hardcore [1979], Auto Focus [2002], or Dog Eat Dog [2016]), Affliction is a comparatively understated film for Schrader, which still gives him a lot of leeway for depicting realistic brutality. It is keenly on display in Coburn’s portrayal of Glen Whitehouse, imbuing his character with a sadistic glee that is both awful and realistic. The joy Glen derives from verbally tormenting his grown sons, and the nastiness he displays in flashbacks toward his young children, exists in Banks’s original book but is transformed by Coburn’s performance into something that is perversely enjoyable (Coburn won a Best Supporting Actor Oscar for the film). Although we hate and fear him, we recognize that out of the half-dozen characters in the film, Glen is the only one who seems to be enjoying himself.
By the end of Rolfe’s narration it’s unclear what Wade is more afraid of: losing the dream of a life that he’d promised to himself or realizing that, in trying to escape his father’s shadow, he’s cast a malignant one of his own. Affliction speculates that if a man can’t change his destiny through a lifetime of good, he may succeed with a few moments of evil.
Affliction is available to rent via streaming from Vudu, YouTube, and AmazonPrime; it is also available on DVD. Subscribe to be notified when a new essay is posted ~