Wade’s first scene takes place as a parent. We see the lack of communication that
he has learned from his father taking over. We see him as a half-baked sheriff, idling by
in booze and anguish, struggling to make things work in his wretched life. As the film
progresses, Wade’s best friend in the world, Jack Hewitt (the flaky Jim True), witnesses a
hunting accident with a wealthy businessman, far from his home in Boston (the film
takes place in New Hampshire). Wade follows his obsessive nature into this seemingly
cut-and-dried case and begins to form theories, egged on by his college professor brother
(and the narrator), Rolfe (Willem Defoe). Wade also delves compulsively into a custody
suit over his daughter, who is clearly irritated by him. The film accentuates the idea that
the custody will break the thin ice that Wade is standing on, sending him into very
unfriendly water.  The whole film finally smacks into its tail when Wade takes on the
responsibility of keeping his severely drunken father in step after Wade’s mother passes
away. The few key scenes of Wade and his father, each more brutal and disjointed than
the next, are the very keystone of a film that isn’t necessarily about the effects of
violence directly, but the internal conflict and ultimate affliction they raise within one.

Russell Banks, who penned the book the film is based upon, also wrote ‘The
Sweet Hereafter’, last year’s best, and, most numbing film. 'Affliction' has the same effect,
but on a different scale. While ‘The Sweet Hereafter’ radiated a feeling that is universal
to suffering, ‘Affliction’ is about personal violence and the kind of life that precedes
those who wield it, even if they are not at fault. Their suffering comes in phrases that fall
from a drunken mouth, such as “I love you, you mean son-of-a-bitch” (A father saying
the only words the son cannot grasp from his paternal figure).

Paul Schrader is one of our finest screenwriters. Along with the brilliant Scorcese
films he’s written (‘Raging Bull’, ‘Taxi Driver’, ‘The Last Temptation of Christ’), he’s
helmed some of the most brutal and exceptional films on his own (‘Light Sleeper’,
‘Hardcore’, ‘American Gigolo’). His knowledge of the jealous rage and disappointed
violence that males inflict on other human beings has led to a legacy of truly powerful
celluloid. Blending his journalistic-narrative style with Banks’ sense of tragedy and its
meaning can bring a result that I described when I first viewed ‘The Sweet Hereafter’ : I
felt as if I’d been hit by a truck. ‘Affliction’ has a tint of anger laced with the feeling I've
described, but its message is just as clear.

Nick Nolte absolutely runs the film. His rugged and harsh acting method brings
about a character that I’m sure was more than just dead-on for this story. Looking into
Nolte’s cold eyes and his wrinkled, sunken features - his face is the story. As good as
Nolte is, I suspect there will never again be material this perfect for his mug. The
supporting cast, including a horrific and at once, clown-like James Coburn, and a caring,
yet strangely impatient Sissy Spacek, add a blistering nuance to our experience.

On a final note, I had a brilliant idea for a film a few weeks back. I had hoped that
Nolte’s character could shed some light on how I could begin to write my main character,
a faded police chief in a small town. Having viewed ‘Affliction’, I can safely say the
complexity and mammoth emotional cringes that Nolte radiates will never serve me and I
am no longer looking to rip this character off. As my conscious mind wraps itself around
the symbolism and serenity of the snow’s blue light, the fire in Nolte’s eyes and an image
I won’t reveal to you, the impressionable reader; I am shamed for even thinking I could
take something from this film and add it to my own brew. I’ve learned my lesson within
the walls of this film’s haunting spectrum of darkness.