A Vigilante

A Vigilante

What are we going to do about it? This is the question posed by “A Vigilante,” a film starring Olivia Wilde as a domestic abuse survivor who becomes an avenging angel. It may be a tiny movie, but it’s one of those small, brutal gems that mark careers in a big way. Every frame feels measured and thoughtful, even when the camera gets so close to Sadie (Wilde) that just looking at her is like staring into an open wound. Written and directed by first-time feature filmmaker Sarah Daggar Nickson, it’s a movie as weapon; you can’t believe what daggers she throws, or how hard she throws them for her first time out.

The evident smallness of the production belies its power to disturb; this is one of those knives that are small enough to be hidden up your sleeve or in the lip of your boot but still cut a man’s throat. This film makes violence absolutely gendered every recipient would definitely be male but not in any interesting way. Sadie wouldn’t beat up women because they couldn’t fight back as effectively as men could. This is just another feminist revenge picture about societally tamped down rage over mistreatment and abuse finally welling up and exploding literally, in some cases in the faces of men who lord their superior physical strength and patriarchal authority over women and children.

The setup sequence could be used as the premise establishing prelude to an episode of “The Equalizer”: After establishing setting with shots of bleak midwinter trees outside frozen-windowed houses, we find our heroine laboriously kicking ass alone in her basement gym (an industrial space with exposed brick walls that look pretty good when seen through director Anastas N. Michos’ lens), clad head-to-toe in black-leather athleisure gear that looks great on Wilde as long as we’re not meant to take it seriously.

The camera is so close on Sadie’s face and upper torso that the swinging motion of her fists makes us feel like we’re getting beat up. Then she goes on a mission, visiting the home of a man who’s abusing his wife and child, beating him nearly to death (he thought he’d be able to incapacitate her with one blow), then ordering him to give most of his money to his wife and leave their lives forever.

Obviously not only would Sadie’s approach be not an emotionally, socially or legally acceptable way to handle that kind of situation, but it’s probably unrealistic as well though no more so than a scenario in “The Equalizer” or “The Punisher” or one of those grungy private eye films where the hardboiled hero shows up in the home of a very bad man and quietly tells him how things are going to be from now on. But one thing that distinguishes this film from other vigilante films is its interest in violence (the aftermath in particular) as something that leaves physical effects, and the toll that committing acts of violence takes on Sadie both as a domestic abuse survivor herself and as somebody who has committed herself to proactively doing more violence order to better the lives of fellow victims/survivors and assuage her own feelings of thwarted justice. In other words: This movie cares about what fighting does for people’s bodies after they’re done fighting.

Sadie’s husband hasn’t just beaten her; he’s psychologically destroyed her so thoroughly over the course of their marriage which has included two pregnancies resulting in two children that at times it seems like she might have nothing left inside her except scars. He is played by Morgan Spector; the film doesn’t give us his name, which feels right because he doesn’t deserve one.

“A Vigilante” is honest about being a movie of catharsis, featuring an actress who is conventionally attractive and fit enough to be a superhero (and actually kind of is here; put her in a cool costume and she’s female Frank Castle), but my only knock against it would be that I don’t think it fully considered what it means to revel in fantasies of payback and control while also insisting on the real-world consequences of Sadie’s suffering and the brutality she inflicts on (deserving) others.

The gold standard for this sort of thing at least recently is writer-director Lynne Ramsay’s “You Were Never Really Here,” which was also one Batman away from becoming a Batman movie but had a slightly more ambiguous attitude toward its tale of a PTSD afflicted, murderously skilled loner moving through an underworld of crime and violence. It’s a badass movie that knows it shouldn’t feel badass but doesn’t always resist the urge not to, and may not even be able to resist it given what kind of movie it is.

All the other people in “You Were Never Really Here” are probably going to therapy weekly; they’re as psychologically thin as Sadie’s foes, all orbiting around the North Star of their heroine’s rage. But this feels like another leveling impulse in the film. If vigilante cinema couldn’t exist because you can’t avoid getting high on your own supply if you’re making it You know?

And it should be noted here that despite the many movies over the years that have featured female avengers, such films are still relatively rare; books about men who seek revenge could fill a library.

And movies starring women (directed by women or men) tend to be more cognizant of the ironies, contradictions and inconsistencies built into revenge fantasies than a lot of movies starring Clint Eastwood, whose vengeance-driven thrillers were suffused with disgust and regret but (when they starred Clint) always made sure to make the hero look as mythologically awesome as possible while doing things that theoretically poisoned his soul. “A Vigilante” spends more time showing the psychic toll of violence on Sadie and on families she’s trying to help than any other revenge thriller I can think of.

There are moments when Wilde’s performance is so committed that you might fear for her safety. It’s not just the bruising scenes where she fights, or gets tortured; it’s all those protracted scenes of Sadie sobbing over personal losses runny nosed, red faced, at times nearly hyperventilating due to an overload of unfairness. This is a raw performance by Wilde that sometimes steers close to psychological self-mutilation. If it were given by a male star we’d already be talking not just about whether he should get awards for it but how many.

A domestic abuse survivor remakes herself as an avenging angel in “A Vigilante,” one of those small brutal films that can lead to major directorial careers. Every frame feels measured and thoughtful, even when the camera gets so close to its heroine’s pain and rage that simply staring at her becomes uncomfortable.

Written and directed by first-time feature filmmaker Sarah Daggar Nickson, this movie is a weapon. The apparent modesty of the production is part of what makes it disturbing: It’s like one of those knives that are small enough to be hidden in a boot or a trench coat sleeve but can still cut a throat.

In this film, the recipients of violence will definitely be male. A feminist revenge thriller in the spirit of “Ms. 45,” “Enough” and 2017’s bluntly titled “Revenge,” this is a film about tamped-down rage over mistreatment and abuse welling up at last, then exploding in men’s faces — men who have used their superior physical strength and patriarchal authority to hurt women and children.

The movie starts with a sequence that might well be the premise-establishing prelude to an old-school episode of TV’s original “The Equalizer”: Following shots establishing bleak midwinter setting, we find Wilde’s Sadie working on a punching bag, the camera so tight on her face and upper torso that the swinging motion of her fists makes you feel battered. Then it moves into a mission: She visits the home of a man who’s abusing his wife and child, beats him nearly to death (he thought he’d be able to incapacitate her with one blow), then orders him to hand most of his money over to his wife and leave their lives forever.

Certainly, this isn’t only way to not emotionally, socially, or legally approach that kind of thing; it might be unrealistic too but then again, “The Equalizer” or “The Punisher” are as well or any other one of those dirty private eye movies where some hardboiled hero comes into the home of a very bad man and calmly explains how things will be going from now on.

But what sets “A Vigilante” apart from most vigilante films is its concern for the physical realities of violence (the aftermath especially) and the toll that takes on Sadie as an abuse survivor and someone who has chosen to inflict more hurt in order to save fellow sufferers and salve her own sense of thwarted justice.

The film never names Sadie’s husband (played by Morgan Spector), partly because he’s such a loathsome figure you want to give him the dignity even of being talked about like a person rather than just called “Sadie’s husband,” and partly because he has committed even worse acts than I can describe here. He is the Big Bad in this movie but he still exists outside it somewhere, and once you know this (which happens pretty early), you start waiting for them to meet each other in one of those confrontations that “A Vigilante,” being a proud pulp item, wouldn’t think of denying you.

“A Vigilante” is frank about being a cathartic fantasy starring a conventionally beautiful actress who could play a superhero (and sort of already is playing one here; put her in a cool costume and she’d make an excellent Frank Castle). The only knock I have against it is that it doesn’t seem to have fully thought through wanting to revel in fantasies of payback/control while also wanting us to appreciate how messed-up Sadie is from her real-world experiences/deliverances.

The gold standard for this type recently would be Lynne Ramsay’s “You Were Never Really Here,” which also seemed like it might turn into a Batman movie every now and then, but took a slightly more complex view of what it would mean for a PTSD-afflicted, extremely deadly lone wolf to move through a twilight world of crime/violence. That is one badass movie that knows damn well it’s not supposed to feel badass but can’t always resist the urge and might not be able to resist it given what kind of film it is.

All the other characters in that one are pretty thin psychologically, existing mainly as satellites around the North Star of its heroine’s wrath. But this, too, feels like an equalizing impulse at some level. If inability to avoid getting high on your own supply were deal breaker in vigilante cinema we wouldn’t have any vigilante movies; same goes for privileging main character’s issues above everyone else’s

It is important to note that despite the fact that many movies featuring female avengers have been produced over the years, such films are still relatively uncommon, while tales of men like them could fill up very thick reference books.

And flicks starring Ladies (whether they were directed by ladies or gentlemen) tend to be more conscious than a lot of thrillers with men about the ironies, contradictions and inconsistencies baked into the idea of revenge fantasy; for example, Clint Eastwood’s vengeance driven pictures are steeped in disgust and regret but also made sure to present the hero as mythologically awesome while having him do things that were supposed to poison his soul “A Vigilante” shows us more about the destructive psychological effects of violence on Sadie herself as well as on the families she’s trying to help than any other revenge thriller I can think of.

And Wilde’s performance is so fierce that there are moments when you may fear for her physical safety and mental health. It’s not just the punishing fight and torture scenes that shake us up; it’s all those long passages where Sadie weeps over her personal losses, snot-nosed and red eyed and at times almost hyperventilating with rage at life’s unfairness. This is a raw performance that flirts at times with psychological self-mutilation if a male star gave it, we’d already be asking not only whether it was award worthy, but how many awards it should get.

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