THE OBVIOUSLY dark and troubled mind of screenwriter supreme Paul Schrader has been responsible for some of the century's most compelling cinema (he penned the scripts to Raging Bull and Taxi Driver, the latter being almost better in screenplay form than it was as a movie.) Now an increasingly confident director, Schrader has gifted us the first must-see arthouse flick of the season.

Affliction, as dark and intense as its title suggests, explores a recurring theme in Schrader's work - the nature of male violence and its extraordinarily destructive power.

Though fundamentally a murder mystery, the real purpose of Affliction is to examine second and third-generation violence: *born in the blood, bred in the bone, passed from father to son*. To this end, the movie enlists a superhuman performance from the thoroughly reborn Nick Nolte, who plays cop anti-hero Wade Whitehouse as an inherently violent, genetically-doomed man of otherwise noble intentions, genuinely doing his very best to manage the fury within him which threatens to erupt like hot lava whenever the occasion threatens.

Wade happens to be a cop in one of those New England smalltowns where cops never have anything to do, which leaves ample time for his inner demons to amuse themselves. He is divorced, as you might suspect, and his wife has moved away with his only daughter (to his immense frustation) - thus, most of his time is spent drinking himself sightless and leaning a little too heavily on the shoulder of his girlfriend (Sissy Spacek).

James Coburn puts in a phenomenal performance as the superannuated, tyrannical father whom Nolte visits from time to time, and with the likes of Willem Dafoe in support, you can hazard a guess as to how good the film is. Difficult, depressing and sad, Affliction is not a film to lift the spirits by any means, but its unwavering focus, bloodyminded intensity and noir-ish stylisation all add up to something immensely powerful and profound. But the film's real accomplishment is its recognition that, just as a degree of evil exists in us all, it follows that nobody is evil beyond redemption, and that all human behaviour has deep roots which help to explain it - a rejection, if you like, of the classic John Majorism: *We should condemn more and understand less*.

Throughout, Affliction somehow manages to maintain an underlying tone of deep compassion for those pre-ordained to abuse the greatest privilege life can bestow, and though it makes for grim viewing, it stands without doubt as another of Schrader's classic creations.