Sympathy for the devil
Pedophile hunts for redemption in The Woodsman
America can’t resist arguing with itself over the limits of acceptable behavior. The film Kinsey depicts one researcher’s lifelong attempts to redraw the boundaries of sexual normalcy, while the election-year attacks on gay marriage raised barriers against such notions of tolerance.
No matter who draws the line, though, The Woodsman shows the perspective of someone stranded on the wrong side of it. By placing a pedophile at the center of the story, first-time director Nicole Kassell knows all too well that she’s entering uncomfortable territory. Fortunately, Kevin Bacon’s controlled, empathetic performance makes The Woodsman into a honest bid to respect the sinner while hating the sin.
When convicted felon Walter (Bacon) goes on parole after 12 years in jail, he re-enters society, but only partially. With his Spartan apartment, demanding lumberyard job and self-imposed isolation, Walt might as well still be imprisoned.
Walter rebuffs a cafeteria flirtation with his boss’ secretary (Eve), but gradually opens up to Vickie (Kyra Sedgwick), a tough-talking forklift driver. Steamy bedroom scenes reveal their physical chemistry, but she presses him to open up emotionally as well. Walter eventually admits that he served time for molesting girls between 10 and 12 years old.
A mood of impending doom hangs over The Woodsman, from two separate fronts. Seeing the secretary’s jealous hostility, we know it’s just a matter of time before Walter’s co-workers learn his criminal record and persecute him. Worse, Walter tells Vickie that men like him have a high likelihood of relapse, and when his eyes linger on schoolgirls on the bus, we dread that he’ll take up his old ways.
Walter begins trailing 11-year-old Robin (Hannah Pilkes), generating suspense over both her safety and, in essence, the state of Walter’s soul. Yet the subtleties of Bacon’s performance prove unsettling. Most movie deviants, like Peter Lorre’s pervy child-killer in M, twitch and pant with depraved desires. But when Walter “innocently” chats with Robin, he’s the most relaxed and happy we ever see him in the film. By revealing Walter at ease, his closed-off misery in the rest of the film seems that much more acute. Bacon provides one of the most impressive yet least showy examples of the actor’s craft I’ve seen in years.
The Woodsman helps us sympathize with Walter, but assiduously avoids making a NAMBLA-esque case for sexual permissiveness. Walter’s impulses torment him, and he presses his therapist: “When will I be normal? Will I ever be normal?” In a lazy contrivance, Walter’s apartment window overlooks a grade-school playground, and he identifies a likely molester (Kevin Rice) who hangs around offering candy to young boys. Walter nicknames him “Candy” and despises his predatory actions, yet also envies Candy’s freedom. We suspect that Walter doesn’t report Candy because it would be too much like killing part of himself.
Director Kassell co-wrote the script with Steven Fechter, based on his stage play, and the creators prove overly self-conscious with their material, as if they’re so afraid of being misunderstood, they spell out the themes with unnecessary force. The Woodsman uses fairy-tale metaphors to explore the consequences of preying on innocence, so Mos Def’s police detective talks us through the title’s reference to the woodsman who rescues Little Red Riding Hood. And just in case we missed the comparison, Robin wears a red coat and walks through a heavily forested park.
The Woodsman flirts with cliches about the redemptive love of a good woman, but fortunately Sedgwick never condescends to her salt-of-the-earth character. We believe that her Vickie has seen and experienced so much pain, she’s capable of forgiving enormous human failings. And as the taunting cop, Mos Def brings spontaneity and threat to a potentially one-note character.
Walter asserts that he never hurt anybody, but he gradually realizes that even without being violent, his actions can leave scars that don’t show, and may never heal. Avoiding an overly hopeful ending, The Woodsman suggests that Walter finds understanding, but not peace, and that he may never be welcome in the arms of society.