Vengeance

When the family of a murdered young woman, erroneously believing him to be her boyfriend, calls to inform him of her death, a journalist and podcaster travels from New York City to small town Texas to investigate the death of a woman he doesn’t remember, and ends up finding much more than he bargained for…

Charming for what it is, Vengeance—written, directed by, and starring BJ Novak—is ultimately a movie about privilege. It’s unclear if the film is even aware that it’s about privilege, which is its main problem, but it’s definitely about privilege. White privilege to be specific.

Vengeance is about a “coastal elite” from New York City, who travels down to the hinterlands of Texas to hang out with the “common folk” for the funeral of a woman he doesn’t know, all because her family believed that he was her boyfriend. In reality, he’s only there to find out the truth about her death because he wants to turn it into the latest viral sensation True Crime/State of America podcast, but in the process, he discovers that, despite his fancy, high-falutin’ ways, he isn’t as different from these good salt o’the earth people as he first assumed.

To give the film its fair due, the cast is great, and the story is entertaining on its face, even if the entire idea of viral Podcasts and all the true crime talk feels pretty dated. This can be forgiven, as pop culture is a fickle beast, and the process of screenplay to screen can often take awhile, so…

So yeah, it’s not a bad film.

Mostly, it’s just too hard to ignore these days how the film flat out refuses to acknowledge, as it moves through spaces that the main character is only allowed to move through because of his skin color, that it only works because of white privilege, that its whole kumbaya message of “we aren’t so different after all” is only allowed because of that same privilege. The story is nominally about the mystery of this young woman’s murder, but it’s actually a hunt for answers to the tearfully asked question: “why is our poor, poor nation so divided?” The problem being, that the film dares to ask this question without ever once even mentioning the systemic racism, the rabid Christian Nationalism, and the bone-deep cultural hatred for anything or anyone who is different, that courses through White America’s veins. The film seems to think that it’s saying something about our country, about fame, about the evils of social media, and the “divisiveness that is ruining everything,” blah, blah, blah, but its refusal to acknowledge the actual reality facing a large percentage of Americans every single day, possibly because it isn’t even aware of that reality, makes the film’s supposed answers naive pap at best, and at worse, the product of deliberate gaslighting.

It’s not as bad as some, of course. I honestly don’t think this is a deliberate choice on the film’s part either. It’s seems like it is more likely due to regular old run of the mill oblivious white ignorance. Which is exhausting, and it dampens what might be an otherwise enjoyable experience.

There’s been a spate of things recently, more than usual—movies, tv shows, social media narratives—that really go through some impressive contortions to push that “we’re all the same, if only we (POC, GLBTQIA, and other fringe communities, not the mainstream white people, who are innocent and nice) were open to talking more” bullshit. And each time I run across this very unsubtle narrative, I can clearly hear the mostly white writing rooms specifically talking about their dads, and their family and friends “back home” in an attempt to excuse their actions, instead of cleaning their own house, instead of confronting the rot in their social circles, instead of making an actual effort to maybe make things better, even if it means possibly sacrificing those relationships “back home” and that is maybe the most disappointing thing in to find in the people you thought you knew, which makes seeing it in things like this even worse. So there’s that. But maybe that’s just me. Your mileage may vary.

But if it does, perhaps a little self-examination might be in order…

Anyway…

Additionally, and this is a minor annoyance, while Novak clearly understands the malleability of the way a phrase like “Bless your heart” can be used in polite society, he also clearly doesn’t quite get how it’s actually wielded.

…City folk, amirite?

So, while it was a good effort hampered by its own oblivious bullshit, in the end, Vengeance did get one thing right… the way of the gun is the only answer that White America will ever understand or accept.