The Hunted (2003)
Dir: William Friedkin
Rated: R
Yes, that William Friedkin. The one who directed William Peter Blatty's The Exorcist. The man who created one of the scariest films of all time. Users on IMDb rate this particular movie a 5.8 out of 10 stars—considering the harsh grading curve of the site, that's actually on just this side of "It's okay." And while I'll admit I was engrossed in it because of my affection for Tommy Lee Jones and Benicio Del Toro, there was something... "Lacking."
An antagonist.
Before I get too far into anything, I'd like to mention that Johnny Cash's "The Man Comes Around" is used as a voice-over in the beginning. It's fairly fitting.
"God said to Abraham, 'Kill me a son.'Abe says, 'Man, you must be puttin' me on.'God says, 'No'; Abe says, 'What?'God says, 'You can do what you want, Abe, but the next time you see me comin', you better run.'Abe says, 'Where do you want this killin' done?'God says, 'Out on Highway 61.'"
We're given Aaron Hallam (Del Toro) as our supposed antagonist, but I just feel too horrible for him to think of him as anything other than a victim. Remember First Blood and how John Rambo couldn't "turn off" his instinct to kill after the war? That's what Aaron is dealing with. He's Special Forces. At the beginning of the movie he's given an operation in Kosovo to carry out. He saves a lot of American soldiers, but looses part of himself during the brutal fight. The ultimate kick in the face is when he is awarded the Silver Star for his actions.
He goes AWOL after that.
He snapped.
I think this is the reason why I don't feel Aaron can be considered an outright antagonist. Not when my heart is breaking for him as he tries in vain to reconnect with humanity through a woman and her daughter that he's gotten to know since his time in Special Forces. The little girl brings out the curious, human side of him that got lost somewhere between training with Tommy Lee Jones' character, L.T., and being turned loose on groups of militants in a war zone with just a knife. He's been writing L.T. for ages talking about how he's terrified and how the nightmares are worse and he doesn't want to be this killing thing anymore. How L.T. has been like a father to him...
Symbolically, L.T. (who is living in Canada) releases a wolf from an illegal snare and dresses the animal's wound in one of the stranger moments in cinema—one of those things where you swear you know a guy like this and he's a wise man with the patience of the most strong-willed man. Despite his former job of training Special Forces (he isn't military) how to survive in the wilderness and kill with maximum efficiency, L.T. has never killed a man. Halfway through the movie, my brain inevitably linked him with Ben Kenobi.
Aaron hides in the woods in Portland and in his dementia brutally murders two elk hunters (they say "deer" in the movie but show an elk). Though the creepifying conversation they have as Aaron tracks them trough the woods is so cryptic I'm still not sure if the hunters were confused or actually sent out there to kill him. They don't succeed. This gains the FBI's attention and they bring L.T. in to see if he can find their "perps." No one thinks one man could have slaughtered the two hunters on his own.
It's when the two finally meet in the woods that the conflict loses it's credibility. Aaron is obviously conflicted and hurting—paranoid and wary of anyone. He is so damaged that we know within the first few minutes of him talking to L.T. that he will most likely die by the end of the movie.
I did warn you about spoilers...
The FBI manages to arrest Aaron. They don't get to talk to him for very long.
What follows is a chain of events that could have really made the movie much more interesting plot-wise had they not dismissed it ten minutes later with a massive wreck that has Aaron escaping military custody to visit the women he met who seem to ground him back in reality; Irene and her daughter Loretta.
Random fact: The home used in The Hunted where Irene and Loretta live is the same one used in Untraceable. It's a gorgeous home.
He wants so badly to tell her what he's been made to do, but he's terrified of scaring her. She's pretty much the only thing that is real to him in the world. In fact, he tells her he thinks it would be safer for her to leave Portland than stay anywhere near him for her and her daughter's safety. We don't hear what he tells her, but it's apparently convincing enough that she packs her bags and plans on leaving after picking Loretta up from school the next day.
I still haven't seen a flesh-and-blood antagonist. If we really have to pick, I'd say Aaron's mental disturbances. But that's a stretch. In a film like this one, it helps to have an antagonist that wants nothing more than to destroy the main character—and those guys were killed off in the wreck that allows Aaron to escape.
After another brush with L.T. and the FBI, Aaron goes on the run once more and we never hear of Irene or Loretta again. Both could be safe. Or, they could have been killed on their way out of Portland. I hate plotholes.
L.T. is finally given a chance to read one of the unmailed (or returned—it's never explicitly stated) letters addressed to him from Aaron and they all discover just how severe Aaron's lost grip on reality is. He thinks he's being hunted by robots.
Time out.
This? It felt like it was thrown in at the last second like: "Well, why is he all paranoid?" "Robots, dude. Terminators or something." "Sounds good."
No.
I understand leaving the air of ambiguousness in someone's motives leaves more to be discussed later on, but that was way out of left field. Aaron mentions those two elk hunters (still called deer hunters despite showing an elk at least three more times) were "sweepers" sent out after him. No more explanation is given. Though the creepy military guys that explain Aaron can't be held in FBI custody and belongs in military custody really did give off that X-Files vibe. And they were planning on killing him in the back of the transport van with a nasal poison in one of those tiny misting devices.
But we're taken back out into the wilderness after a really epic chase scene after Aaron runs out of Irene's house and takes off for the bridge (honestly, Tommy Lee Jones spends a lot of his career running after people) Aaron dives into the river to escape and L.T. takes it on as his "responsibility" to stop him.
He tracks Aaron down, and after a really painful looking knife fight (the fights, by the way, are amazingly real—the hits actually connect as proven by Del Toro's broken wrist during production) and I can't choose a side. Normally you pick one man to root for in a movie, but I've been hurting for both of them. L.T. never wanted to kill anyone—he just knows how and how to train people. Aaron never wanted to be stuck in that state of perpetual alert—he just wanted to serve his country.
So I guess the real antagonist could be the human conscience, but that feels lame. Even though the outcome was expected, it didn't hurt any less knowing that this man spent most of his life in a state of agony. Not physical, but mental. I think Tommy Lee Jones' action of placing his palm on Aaron's head once it's all over is gut-wrenching. The young man considered him to be like a father and L.T. could not have been that for him.
Aaron was lost.
It's a sad movie. Yeah, there are some amazing fight scenes and the like but my brain keeps cycling back to Fist Blood and that scene that actually makes me cry every time I see it:
Col. Trautman: You did everything to make this private war happen. You've done enough damage. This mission is over, Rambo. Do you understand me? This mission is over! Look at them out there! Look at them! If you won't end this now, they will kill you. Is that what you want? It's over Johnny. It's over!John: Nothing is over! Nothing! You just don't turn it off! It wasn't my war! You asked me, I didn't ask you! And I did what I had to do to win! But somebody wouldn't let us win! And I come back to the world and I see all those maggots at the airport, protesting me, spitting. Calling me baby killer and all kinds of vile crap! Who are they to protest me? Who are they? Unless they've been me and been there and know what the hell they're yelling about!Col. Trautman: It was a bad time for everyone, Rambo. It's all in the past now.John: FOR YOU! For me civilian life is nothing! In the field we had a code of honor, you watch my back, I watch yours. Back here there's nothing!Col. Trautman: You're the last of an elite group, don't end it like this.John: Back there I could fly a gunship, I could drive a tank, I was in charge of million dollar equipment, back here I can't even hold a job PARKING CARS!
Really, what do you do with your life if all you know how to do is kill? There is a sweet moment between Aaron and Loretta as he teaches her what the animal tracks in the backyard are, but that looming shadow of "you will never fit in" is still drearily above him
I liked The Hunted. I would have liked it more if the "super-secret-military-'Aaron-Hallam-doesn't-exist'" arc had been left open to explore.
Instead, it feels like Friedkin intended for us to despise Aaron for his brutal actions. Despite how wrong they are, I can't. Either it's because I've seen First Blood too much and my love for Benicio Del Toro's acting is getting in the way, or I'm missing something. Because I feel terrible for him.
The ending tag of the movie is of L.T. back up in his Canadian cabin burning Aaron's undelivered letters that mention his fears and desperation for L.T.'s advice or any sort of response at all. There was some small fleck of hope in those letters. Hope that Loretta and Irene could save him from himself. Hope that he could turn off that killing instinct. Hope that his father figure would hear him and offer up help.
It's bleak. We see the wolf from the beginning return in the distance and the movie ends with the Johnny Cash song again.
So what have I learned from this other than you can give me anything with Benicio Del Toro in it and I'll watch it?
Sometimes, life realistically emulated in film can be too dark. I turned it off feeling drained of happiness.
