Ironically, though, the gore wasn't what stuck with me. In fact, it largely disappeared from my memory within minutes. What haunted me were the babies. You see, the trailer opens with Hauer standing in the observation window of a hospital nursery while freshly scrubbed infants stare at his filthy form. He says:
I used to be like you. Long time ago. You're all brand-new and perfect. No mistakes, no regrets. People look at you and think how wonderful your future will be. They want you to be something special. Like a doctor. Or a lawyer. Hate to tell you this, but if you grow up here you're more likely to end up selling your bodies on the streets or shooting dope from dirty needles in a bus stop.Now, I know that director Jason Eisener doesn't want his audience to focus on the horror of wasted youth and squandered potential. This isn't Requiem for a Dream. No, Hobo looks like a film that relishes going over the top, frolicking in filthy violence. But I have a one-year-old child who's all smiles and curiosity, who's learning the beginnings of language and delights in nothing more than flinging wood blocks. This child has an entire existence to experience. No wonder the trailer's intro terrified me.
My personal critical framework is founded on an author's intent, in subjecting myself to what another is trying to communicate, and that's the first work we all should do -- at least as readers. But as writers we have to remember that those who consume our works will have subjective responses to them. Even if they fully comprehend what we're trying to do, they'll also have reactions unique to themselves. We need to keep that in mind while we're composing and exercise caution when inserting content that may cause certain segments of society to stumble. Sometimes a little sensitivity is in order.
(Picture: CC 2010 by Jeremy Edward Shiok)