What is In a Violent Nature about?
In a Violent Nature’s final scene builds to a moment that transcends physical horror and leaves us with the sense of existential dread that’s at the core of trauma and PTSD. It positions its monster, Johnny, as a force of nature, and asks how we cope with having been the victim of something so primal. Similar to films like Scream and Cabin in the Woods, In a Violent Nature creates a meta-discussion about the tropes of the slasher genre and what we as viewers need, want, or look for from such films. How much do we care about the story versus the violence? What does that say about our nature?
Cast
- Johnny – Ry Barrett
- Kris – Andrea Pavlovic
- Colt – Cameron Love
- Troy – Liam Leone
- Aurora – Charlotte Creaghan
- Brodie – Lea Rose Sebastianis
- Ehren – Sam Roulston
- Evan – Alexander Oliver
- The Ranger – Reece Presley
- The Woman – Lauren-Marie Taylor
- Chuck – Timothy Paul McCarthy
- Written by – Chris Nash
- Directed by – Chris Nash
The meaning of In a Violent Nature’s ending
Many horror movies come back to trauma. Processing it, living with it, confronting it. In a Violent Nature stays with that theme. If we believe Johnny’s backstory, he was a kid who lost his mother at a young age then was the victim of a prank gone wrong. We hear that Colt’s recently lost his dad. We find out The Ranger lost people he cared about when Johnny attacked 10 years earlier. And then Kris loses all of her friends, her boyfriend, and her crush. Whatever youthful innocence she had at the film’s beginning, around that campfire, is gone.
That’s why that final scene in the car takes such a long time. In a horror movie, viewers expect a drawn out conversation like that to result in the killer’s sudden appearance. So we understand why Kris begs The Woman to keep driving. She, like us, expects Johnny to inexplicably, beyond all logic, logistics, and reason, appear from out of nowhere, even though they had driven several miles. We think he’ll attack as soon as the woman opens the car door. But he doesn’t. It will happen as soon as she kneels down! It doesn’t. What about when she finishes putting on the tourniquet? Johnny will be there. He has to be there. Right? Right?
That sense of expectation we feel, as viewers familiar with the tropes of slasher films, mirrors Kris’s PTSD. The horror at the end isn’t physical so much as existential. Which is the point of The Woman’s story about her brother and the bear. You experience this visceral, awful thing, and then it’s over. Physically, you may end up being fine (more or less). But mentally? When does it actually end? What puts your soul at peace?
Johnny is someone who suffered tragedy himself and found a way to soothe his grief—his mother’s locket. It’s similar to how The Woman describes her brother essentially making jokes about the bear attack. He uses humor to undercut the awfulness of what happened. Whereas Kris is at the beginning of her trauma. It’s still fresh and raw. The monster seems like he’s around every corner.
So it helps to view the events of In a Violent Nature as representative of tragedy. For example, Kris losing all of her friends to Johnny’s rampage could translate to being on a road trip with those friends and someone runs a red light and there’s a crash and she’s the only survivor. Think about what it must be like to get back in a car? How much tension there might be doing something as simple as driving to the store. Kris might be in the passenger seat and yell for the driver to stop because she was convinced they didn’t see a stop sign, even though they had already started slowing down. That kind of PTSD is what she’s experiencing when she expects Johnny to trudge out of the woods and attack. How does someone get comfortable being in a car again?
It’s a nice inversion at the end because following the monster meant that we got to feel secure in knowing where Johnny was at all times. But the perspective change to Kris creates a sudden sense of vulnerability.
Johnny as a force of nature
The Woman mentions that the bear was suffering from something called henhouse syndrome. Quote: Bobby said there’s something in the field called Hen House Disease. Hen House Syndrome? Something like that. It’s when coyotes, wolves, and such just keep killing everything around them, They don’t go back for food or anything. They just keep killing. No reason at all. Bobby says animals don’t get too hung up on reason. That’s what he says.
This touches on basic literary dichotomy between the animal and the human. Instinct versus reason. The bear isn’t acting on some intellectual idea it had. It’s reacting to a primal urge. That kind of natural violence puts the bear’s rampage into a similar category as a tornado or an earthquake. It’s a thing that happens that we have very little control over. Hopefully you’re not around when it happens, but, if you are, good luck.
Because the story of Bobby and the bear mirrors Kris with Johnny, the transitive property comes into play. Johnny becomes, like the bear, a force of nature, indifferent to the suffering it causes. And Kris is, like Bobby, a survivor who now has to come to terms with the lack of rationality, with that newfound sense of the banality of death and destruction.
This comparison goes a long way to explaining the film’s title. In a Violent Nature is a prepositional phrase that feels unfinished. Like the full sentence should be something like “It’s in a violent nature to delight in causing pain.” So you could view the film as exploring what it means when someone or something has this violent nature. A normal person would ask around for the lost locket they’re looking for. Someone with a violent nature goes on a murder spree.
Probably the most emblematic moment is when Johnny kills Colt then continues to bash, mash, and smash Colt’s head to a pulp. There’s no logical reason for Johnny to keep thwacking away. But he does so because…it’s in a violent nature to do so.
If you want to go a bit further, you could argue that “in a violent nature” is a poetic way of saying that “nature is violent”. Which, to be honest, feels a bit more like a reach. But there’s an argument to be made given the film’s setting, the bear story, the way the last scene has Kris and the viewer staring at the treeline, waiting for this violence to emerge from the forest, as well as the horror of Kris’s run through the woods in the dark. Johnny did rise from the very soil. So there’s this visual, atmospheric, and thematic connection between the monster and the setting.
But then you could also say the title might be acting as more of a call out…
In a Violent Nature as a meta-text about the horror genre
Scream is probably the most famous example of a meta-text in the horror genre. Multiple characters were aware of the classic tropes and used that knowledge to try to not only figure out who the killer was but how to avoid being a victim.
Another example was 2010’s Cabin in the Woods. It was meta like Scream but in a different way. Instead of characters simply being aware of horror genre tropes, a worldwide organization has to appease underground gods by enacting ancient sacrifice rituals in various parts of the world. The only two operational facilities were America and Japan—which were, at the time, the two world leaders in horror cinema. The terrifying gods serve as a metaphor for movie audiences and the demands they have.
Plenty exist. Peeping Tom (1960), Funny Games (2007), The Human Centipede 2 (Full Sequence) (2011).
In a Violent Nature might be the most subtle of them? The entire premise is based on the understanding that horror films are primarily from the perspective of the potential victims. The decision to film from the perspective of the killer is, on its own, a kind of meta-gesture that might be lost on audiences in the future but will be pointed to present-day fans of the genre. The fact that it’s a “cabin in the woods” story is another meta-based gesture. It’s one of the most cliche and classic horror tropes. So it’s saying “Here, let’s do the most basic version of a horror movie we can. But see it in a way that’s never been done before.”
There’s a rule of thumb in business where if you want to sell something new, you have to make it familiar. And if you want to sell something familiar, you have to make it new. The same thing applies to narrative. If the story is basic, then the style should feel new. And if the style is basic, the story should feel new. Audiences can get overwhelmed if both the story and style are avant-garde. Likewise, they’ll be bored if what they’re watching is overly familiar. Jurassic Park has a lot of familiar horror tropes put into a dinosaur movie. The unique setting makes those familiar beats exciting in a new way.
So In a Violent Nature is a fresh stylistic approach to classic story beats. Which, in some ways, acts as a re-evaluation of those beats. Do we need them? Are we watching because we care about the characters? How much do we care about what happened at the gas station with the girls? Or the tension between Troy and Colt? Or if Kris loves Colt more than Troy? Or Aurora and the girl who wants to hook up with her? Do we root for Kris because she’s the final girl? Even though we don’t know anything about her and haven’t connected with her at all during the film? Or are we watching only for the monster? For the violence? Are we the ones who have a violent nature?
What happened to Johnny? Is he still on the loose?
This is actually kind of a fascinating question. We don’t see what happens to Johnny, only that he took the locket. If you’re feeling cynical, you might say it’s just a way to set up a sequel. Johnny does feel like a monster you can build a franchise around. It’s pretty standard for the genre.
Plot-wise, we know that Johnny wanted the locket. He woke up because Troy took it. He actively searches the pockets of his victims. And The Ranger even says as much. So there’s the argument that Johnny simply returned to his hole in the ground rather than continue to terrorize people. Though, The Ranger also said Johnny will just keep going, even if he got the locket back. We don’t know enough to say either way. And that’s kind of the point.
Thematically, it makes sense to not know what happened to Johnny. We talked about the ideas of trauma and PTSD that the ending evokes. Knowing what happened to Johnny would allay those fears. But Chris Nash didn’t want the audience to have that sense of closure and comfort. He wanted to put us in the same state of mind as Kris. So by not knowing what happened to Johnny, we leave the film with Kris’s sense of anticipation and dread.
The head of visual effects, Steven Kostanski, did tell Variety: I feel like there’s definitely room for more Johnny adventures. I wouldn’t mind seeing him end up in suburbia at some point. Just the feeling of walking around with this character in a back alley—somewhere while people are just living their lives—is pretty spooky. I would entertain that. And then by part four, maybe he goes to space. We’ll see.
Why did Johnny let Kris live?
Did he let Kris live? We never actually see Johnny acknowledge Kris. Instead, he’s hyper-focused on bashing Colt’s corpse. It’s not like he walked up to Kris while she was frozen in terror then left her there. We don’t see him notice her leaving the locket then decide to not pursue her. She just puts the locket around the gas can, slowly backs away, then runs. Because the camera shifts to following her, we never know what Johnny does next. Maybe he trudged after her for four miles, got distracted by a group of bird watchers, then completely forgot about Kris? Or maybe he’s tracking her like the monster from It Follows and will, one day, finally trudge his way to her?
If you go with the idea that Johnny “let” Kris go, then it adds some degree of humanity to his nature. Like maybe he saw the locket on her and it made him think about his mom so he decided to show mercy. Or it shows that he cared more about the locket the entire time. Otherwise, he’s just like the murder-crazy bear from The Woman’s story and went on a frenzy then wandered off.
But, really, the reason is that Nash wanted to have that final moment with Kris being scared that Johnny might be out there. How or why Kris got away from Johnny isn’t the important thing. The important thing is giving her the distance so the film can switch perspective and play with our expectations that Johnny will come after her.
Is Johnny supernatural? Undead? Is he smart?
We’re told that the accident and camp massacre happened 70 years ago. That’s already a point in favor of “supernatural”. If we believe The Ranger, Johnny had been underground for a decade. That makes him very supernatural. Technically, I think he’s a revenant? We see him shot multiple times and pick himself right back up. And he has insane strength and can hold his breath for an abnormal amount of time. He definitely seems in the vein of Michael Myers—a seemingly regular child who inexplicably became more demon than human. It’s summed up as “he’s pure evil in a human shape”. Same kind of thing with Johnny. There’s also a little bit of Jason Voorhees from Friday the 13th in there.
In terms of intelligence, Johnny definitely puts 2 and 2 together. He’s not simply some feral creature. He understands social situations. Like waiting outside the light of the campfire rather than marching in and slaughtering whoever he could get his hands on. He knew to play dead long enough to surprise The Ranger. He calculates. But then we see his childlike nature when he sees the toy car on a keychain and decides to sit down and play with the toy. Remember, he was a child when he died. So it seems there’s a mixture of innocence of a kid robbed of his future and the rage of a vengeful spirit.
Why did we see Johnny’s memory of his family and the locket?
Narratively, it serves as exposition to the viewer that Johnny has a personal attachment to the locket. This giant killer has the sentiments of a child who misses his parents. But nothing similar happens over the course of the film. It’s not like throughout In a Violent Nature we see Johnny have flashes to a happy childhood. It’s not like he comes across Troy and flashes to the loggers who pushed him from the fire tower. He doesn’t see Kris as his mother. If you lose that moment, nothing really changes, as dialogue later in the movie explains that Johnny associates the locket with his mother and it’s the only thing that soothes his spirit. I’d argue it probably needed to be cut or elaborated on.
Why didn’t Aurora run from Johnny?
The yoga kill will probably be the most iconic moment from In a Violent Nature. It’s not every day you see someone’s head pulled through their stomach and out the other side. Leading up to it, Aurora’s simply doing yoga near the edge of a cliff with an idyllic view. When she realizes Johnny’s there, she backs up. To the edge of the cliff. Nowhere to go, right? Except…she could have still tried to run left or right. So why didn’t she? Fear. She was paralyzed by fear. We like to think if we were in a similar situation that we would do everything we could to escape. Better to slide down the cliff, right? But, in the moment, it’s impossible to predict how your body will react. For every person who finds a strength they never knew they possessed, there’ll be someone who completely shuts down, overwhelmed by the surrealness of it all.
Variety had some details about how they filmed that scene: For that kill, Nash and special effects lead Steven Kostanski used three silicone Aurora dummies with detachable limbs and fake hook appliances. Each body had its head and torso at different stages of contortion, including one where the neck could stretch up to 180-degrees to fit in the stomach hole. Most impressively, since the dummy weighed around 50 pounds, the kick down the cliffside was done in one take.
What’s the bear story from In a Violent Nature?
Woman: Brother was a game warden, got mauled by a bear, 30 years ago. Real bad. Real bad. His office got a call from a hunter came upon a couple deer carcass out in the woods, out near Portlock. Bobby took the call. Drove his ATV about an hour or so, deep into the bush. Where this guy told him. Said it looked like something out of a horror movie or something. Blood all over the ground. Black bear tracks all dug in the mud. In the middle of it all, was a fawn and a10-point buck, torn to shreds. Doing what he does, Bobby had seen feeding grounds before. This one did not sit right with him. They didn’t look eaten at all. It was like the bear just up and left after he killed him. And that’s when Bobby knows, something ain’t right with this bear. So. He called it into his office. Bobby’s boss didn’t want to take any chances, told him he’d send him some support, told Bobby to keep tracking that bear. So Bobby gets back on his ATV, goes deep into the forest, all the while, he’s’ coming across fresh kill—porcupine, partridges, just ripped apart, left there. All the sudden he comes to a creek, so Bobby gets off his ATV, goes into the water, comes out the other side. Tracks are gone. It’s as if the bear just went downstream then moved along. So he’s standing there in the water, reaches for his walkie, when all the sudden he feels digging in the back of his head. Said it felt like 100 bee stings or something. Turns out this bear come up behind him, chomped on the back of his head, and pushed him into the creek. Bobby said it was like too much going on at once, like it should have hurt more but he didn’t feel anything. I mean this bear was eating him alive and all Bobby was thinking of was getting his face out of the water, but he had a goddamn bear on his back. He laughs when he tells you now. I guess you get kind of funny when you’re in a situation like that. Bobby made it out, okay? You’ll make it out, too.
Kris: How did he get out?
Woman: Well, he took in too much water and drowned. Woke up on the side of the creek, member of his team doing CPR. He was only out for a minute or so. They airlifted him to the hospital. 100 stitches later, he’s right as rain.
Kris: What about the bear?
Woman: Don’t know. His team said that the bear was gone when they got there. I guess when Bobby drowned, the bear figured he killed him, moved on.
Kris: Why?
Woman: Who knows. Bobby said there’s something in the field called Hen House Disease. Hen House Syndrome? Something like that. It’s when coyotes, wolves, and such just keep killing everything around them, They don’t go back for food or anything. They just keep killing. No reason at all. Bobby says animals don’t get too hung up on reason. That’s what he says.
