Revenge is like a drug?

That's what one researcher concludes, and while I found this supremely interesting, I am not at all sold on the way he presents forgiveness as the ultimate cure.

For eight years, I worked as a sports-talk radio host in Seattle. Each week day, I would sit in a studio, wearing headphones and talk into a microphone for three hours.

The studio was clean and comfortable, and there was a large bay window looking out into the newsroom for the news and political stations that were part of this particular radio cluster.

In the time I worked there, I repeatedly imagined a very specific scenario:

I would look out the window of our studio, and see my stepfather walking across the newsroom, toward the studio used by the news-talk station.

I would stop mid-sentence on my own show.

“Sorry, I’ve got to go take care of something.”

I’d remove my headphones, open the 10-pound door to the sound-proof studio, walk into the newsroom and proceed directly toward the KIRO studio where I would join that interview.

“Sorry to interrupt, but this man was married to my mom for 13 years. I’m interested to hear what he’s doing now, and I’ve also got some questions for him.”

It's never really about you

This was not a likely scenario. My stepfather did not live in Seattle, and I had no reason to think he was involved in any endeavor that would receive media attention. It was not completely implausible, though. For a time, he lived in the same state, and as a former public-school administrator, he had received quite a bit of attention from the Bay Area press, much of it scathing. I also knew he had started what appeared to be a life-coaching business.

I then imagined asking him a series of blunt questions:

• Would you say you were faithful to my mom?

• Do you think it was appropriate that as the superintendent of a one-school district, you were driving an $80,000 BMW the district paid for?

• Marrying my mom was something of a financial windfall for you, wasn’t it?

• Why did you spend through the retirement savings you shared with my mom?

[Side note: This is perhaps the worst premise ever for a revenge movie. “I’m going to show you what real determination looks like by asking you some strongly worded questions ...”]

Over the past few years, I’ve come to understand that this recurring fantasy was an expression of how much I wanted him to see something that resembled accountability. It was only last week, however, that I read a pretty compelling description of what this fantasy was actually doing to my brain (Hint: It wasn’t good).

• “This is your brain on revenge”

  By James Kimmel Jr. | Wall Street Journal, June 5, 2025

Kimmel is a former lawyer who is now a lecturer at Yale. He’s spent years researching the subject, paying particular attention to the neuroscience.¹

The first half resonated deeply with my own experience.

The second half? Not so much.

You see, Kimmel presents forgiveness as the antidote to these revenge desires, a detox.

That doesn’t reflect my experience, though. I’ve let go of the grudge that I held against my stepfather. I’m no longer indulging in revenge fantasies, and when I did ultimately get a chance to interview him, it was not the strongly worded interrogation I spent so many years imagining. It was cordial. I did a lot of listening.

But even now, I haven’t forgiven my stepfather, and in my opinion, the fact that I’ve found closure points to an underlying flaw in Kimmel’s model.

Don’t worry, I’m not going to try and pitch you on “The Interrogator.” I am going to take a look at some movies that deal with the desire for retribution, and I’ll start by establishing the one thing that any true revenge film must have. Here’s a hint: It’s missing from “Taken.”

If you’ve got any thoughts on this piece or even want to nominate a revenge flick for the Film Room, feel free to leave a note in the comments:

1. Kimmel’s book “The Science of Revenge” was published earlier this year, and it’s in my queue to read. This newsletter deals only with the essay.