A daring subject, with fine acting, but ultimately botched.

Rating: 6/10 (27 March 1999)

In the early 1980's it was regarded as a great novelty when the man behind the Hovis commercial directed a hit film. At the time the two worlds were still regarded as miles apart; once one took the soup from Kleenex or Curly Wurly, one was cursed to walk their earth for eternity, with no hope of escape. Ridley Scott broke that mould, with the help of Hugh Hudson, Alan Parker and his brother Tony. More recently, they have been joined by video directors like David Fincher. All share a common visual vocabulary; whilst many have made effective films, there is a cold polish to their work, a discipline of image over content which has often been counterproductive.
American History X, whilst in many ways an admirable film, is a case in point. Tony Kaye is a highly respected director of both commercials and videos - the British Rail advertisement with the snoozing sepia people is his - and it shows. Fish eye lenses, tasteful monochrome, slow motion, faces in deep shadow, all are used and often used effectively. However one is constantly waiting for a silky voice to try and sell us perfume. Since Kaye is his own director of photography, all responsibility for this lies with him.
The film tells the story of two brothers involved with Neo-Nazi skinheads in the Venice Beach area of Los Angeles. Derek (Edward Norton), has just been released from prison after serving time for killing a black man. Danny (Edward Furlong), idolises his elder brother and has followed in his footsteps, his room bedecked with Nazi regalia. This is a very sensitive theme and it is extremely well played by the two Edwards. Norton's Oscar nomination is well deserved, but Furlong is no less impressive, he manages to convey the avalanche of confusion that engulfs a teenager. His racism is part of a pack mentality, one sees clearly that freed from the malign forces around him, he could escape and the humanity in him could blossom.
The film dares to make both brothers attractive personalities, it dares to allow us to root for them. Elsewhere, the filmmakers are not so brave. On the side of righteousness there is Sweeney, a black school principal with "two PhD's", who goes out of his way to assist both Derek and Danny. This really is far too schematic, that the Nazis see the error of their ways because of a saint is much too easy. If there were a Sweeney in every high school, then the problem could be solved over night. Similarly if all right wing leaders were as transparently evil as Stacy Keach's Cameron, then the Dannys of the world would be fairly safe from their grasp. Keach plays him as a cackling maniac, complete with scary scar; he belongs in an underwater base, cradling a white cat. As the electoral success of people like former KKK member David Dukes has shown, white supremacists are capable of appearing just as suburban and normal as Tony Blair. It is there that the real danger lies for America, not with demagogic caricatures.
The process of Derek's political development is also rather cheesy. His dad warned him about affirmative action so he became suspicious of Sweeney's liberalism, his dad gets murdered by a drug dealer so he becomes a Nazi, he goes to prison and meets a nice black bloke, sees the error of his ways and changes his mind. This is the sort of clunky emotional exposition that used to define the character arcs of guest stars in Little House on the Prairie. Similarly, the many intriguing moral and political issues are not demonstrated dramatically, but are explicitly discussed in a series of set pieces over dinner. This is a shame since most of the time writer David McKenna delivers a very controlled and well structured piece of work. He avoids a neat narrative line and moves comfortably backwards and forwards through time.
There is also a very sure sense of place, the Venice Beach locations lend the film an enigmatic feel. This is an environment which straddles race and class. Unlike the urban jungles of the industrial cities of the East, Venice has great natural beauty, the Pacific opens and closes the film. Yet man makes his own ugliness, the meanness of the human spirit is everywhere. There are very few American films which have so convincingly created such a dark nether world, otherwise ignored by mainstream media.
And yet, Hollywood sensibilities do permeate the picture. In the end all it takes for Derek to convince Danny of the error of his ways is for him to tell him about the nice black bloke in prison; a sequence that is both schematic and dramatically moribund. This sums up so much of what is frustrating about the film, it is skilfully made but has little flavour of original talent, it is brave but not brave enough to matter.