All that water cooler chat over whether or not Crash stole the Best Picture Oscar from Brokeback Mountain obscures the fact that the filmmakers behind both films should simply be grateful for making the cut. Now, if you're David Cronenberg, you have a legitimate beef. Despite overwhelming critical acclaim for its visceral depiction of an ordinary American family caught in a web of absolute mayhem, A History of Violence received only two nominations and neither was for Best Director or Best Picture. With New Line's terrific DVD release of the Canadian director's latest masterwork, the studio offers proof that those omissions border on the criminal.

Tom (Viggo Mortensen) and Edie Stall (Maria Bello) enjoy the type of idyllic rural life most people can only dream of. They're married with two great kids and have a beautiful home on the edge of their small Indiana town. He runs the local diner; she's a successful lawyer. They are so blessed that she has even retained her high-school figure, so that she might don her old cheerleader's costume for a night of erotic role-playing with her husband. It is a bliss that has lasted two decades—and that shatters overnight.

The bad news blows in from out of town. The audience anticipates it, having been introduced to Leland (Stephen McHattie) and Billy (Greg Bryk) in the opening scenes. These are bad men and though they've never laid eyes on Tom or any of his diner's customers, they mean to do them all harm. But Tom is quick and his reflexes are sure, and his actions make him a local hero, an instant star on the TV news. It is good business for the diner—too good, as it happens when Carl Fogarty (Ed Harris), another outsider, sits down at the counter and intimates a shared past. Tom says Fogarty is mistaken, but it is enough to transform the Stalls' American dream into something more akin to a nightmare.

Josh Olson adapted John Wagner and Vince Locke's graphic novel and the movie retains the ultra-violence associated with that form. But unlike, say, the recent Sin City, the mayhem here is anything but stylish. It is an ugly story and Cronenberg is not a squeamish director. From Leland and Billy's initial, grotesque crimes, cinematographer Peter Suschitzky's camera zeroes in on the horrific carnage. This is not the operatic violence of something like The Godfather or the blood-spattered ballet of Sam Peckinpah. It more like a full-color, live-action version of the type of in-your-face reportage that used to characterize the great New York crime scene photographer Weegee. It is repellant rather than celebratory, unlike so many films that revel in their violence.

For the Lelands and Fogartys of the world, violence is merely a natural byproduct of the way they live their lives. It simply comes with the territory—they don't question it nor do they question whether or not another type of existence is even possible. Lives like the Stalls lead are for saps—the question is what kind of a man is Tom Stall deep in his heart? Is he the gentle, reasonable man Edie married or is he something else? When his teenage son Jack (Ashton Holmes) finally lashes out at the bully who has been making his life miserable with a surprising show of physical force, Tom lectures him, "In this family, we don not solve our problems by hitting people." But where did that sudden explosion come from? It is not nurture—Tom and Edie have not raised him that way, so it is nature? If so, is it a propensity inherited from dear, old Dad?

This is a surprisingly straightforward genre piece for Cronenberg, but he has always been interested in issues of identity and in Tom, he has got one heck of an identity puzzle. Actually, in a weird way, Tom could be the spiritual brother to Ralph Fiennes' schizophrenic Spider, in that both men live with a past that threatens to devour them. But Tom is no lunatic. Choices were open to him in the past, as they are now, and how he confronts those options defines his identity—not just to himself, but also to everyone around him. Edie, perhaps, has the biggest adjustment to make in deciding whether or not to accept a brand new reality, knowing whatever she decides will have permanent ramifications for her children.

While he receives excellent support from Bello, Harris, and William Hurt as mobster Richie Cusack, the movie belongs to Mortensen. Though he first made a real impact as the troubled, mercurial brother in Sean Penn's The Indian Runner, in recent films from A Walk on the Moon to the Lord of the Rings trilogy to Hidalgo, he seems to have been cast more for his good looks than his acting ability. Certainly, some of that is at work here as Cronenberg plays with the cliché of the handsome leading man, particularly at the beginning when Tom Stall is presented as a Gary Cooper-esque, All American hero. The change in Tom, when it comes, is subtle and chilling.

This is an excellent DVD release. New Line offers a cornucopia of treats, starting with a pristine transfer and Cronenberg's intelligent audio commentary which begins with his theories on title sequences and ranges over subjects as diverse as an actor's vulnerability during intimate scenes, the architecture of the mansion Hurt occupies, and the meaning of the film's last ambiguous scene.

Also included is a deleted scene—a dream sequence—with Cronenberg's optional audio commentary and an accompanying featurette delving into how the scene was shot and why it ultimately ended up on the cutting room floor. There are three more featurettes, one about how the U.S. and international cuts of the film differ (to avoid an NC-17 rating, the bloodletting in a couple of scenes is not quite as extravagant) and another tracks the movie's premiere at the Cannes Film Festival. But the best feature is a 65-minute documentary "Acts of Violence" that charts the making of the movie from Cronenberg's initial involvement with the project to the last shot, a fantastic snapshot of the production that includes not just the participation of the director and major cast, but also supporting players and crew.

At this stage of his career, Cronenberg does not seem to have a wrong note in him: each film is as good or better than the last. A History of Violence is no exception. It is often ugly and sometimes repulsive, but it is riveting and it is impossible to turn away from the blood-soaked imagery of this haunting story.