There’s a faded blue car on the side of the road by the beach. At first you think it might just be parked there, but then you notice the grass growing up around the wheels and the makeshift awning attached to one of the doors. Look a little closer still, and you will notice that some of the spots of rust in the fender aren’t spots at all: they’re bullet holes. This is a car that has seen things. It has been touched by violence, and it has sat in the same place for so long that is has forgotten how to move.

This is the never ending cycle of violence and revenge. This is Blue Ruin.

Blue Ruin is not a film that accepts easy classification. At its most basic level it’s a revenge movie about a man who goes after the thug who killed his parents years ago. But there’s no satisfaction to be had in this revenge, no big explosion-laden payoff. In fact the revenge itself happens fairly early in the film setting off a chain reaction of events that send our protagonist on the run for his life.

To say more would be to stray into serious spoiler territory, but the overriding theme of the movie is that revenge is never an isolated incident. There is no single moment when justice is served and the hero can ride off into the sunset. There is always another side, someone else to be sucked into the cycle of violence. It doesn’t start where you think it starts, and it doesn’t end where you think it ends.

And that’s a message that’s all the more important in these days of war and terror. We live in a world full of people with perfectly good reasons to hate each other. Time and again we convince ourselves that this time we can hit back hard enough to stop anyone from ever hitting us again. But we can’t. And while violence and revenge may seem satisfying in the short term, they will ultimately do irreparable damage to our bodies and souls.

Macon Blair’s incredible understated portrayal of the protagonist, Dwight, makes this into more than just a sermon. The character is distinctly and purposely drawn, neither an invincible hero nor a vanilla everyman. He is a walking contradiction, weak and yet somehow strong, fearful and yet somehow brave. His single-minded determination is simultaneously inspiring and heartbreaking.

Blue Ruin is perfect. Every shot, every color, every moment has purpose and power. There is not a single frame wasted, not a shot out of place. Watch it for the love of cinema. Watch it for the love of life.





Albert lives in Florida where the humidity has driven him halfway to madness, and his children have finished the job. He is the author of The Mulch Pile and A Prairie Home Apocalypse or: What the Dog Saw .

To hear more of our thoughts on Blue Ruin check out Episode 170 of the Human Echoes Podcast.