We’ve all felt it. That simmering, hot-coal-in-the-chest feeling when we’re wronged. The desire for payback. For justice. For… vengeance.
But for most of us, it’s a fleeting fantasy. We imagine the perfect comeback in an argument or the poetic justice of a rival’s failure. Then, life moves on.
But what happens when that fantasy becomes the only thing left? When the world strips you of everything you love, and the only identity that remains is the one forged in fire and blood?
That is the territory of “My Name Is Vendetta.”
The phrase, immortalized by the gritty Italian action thriller on Netflix, is more than just a cool title. It’s a declaration. A mission statement. It’s the moment a man sheds his old life—his name, his past, his humanity—and becomes an instrument of retribution.
In the film, we see a former mafia enforcer, Santo, living a quiet life under a new identity. When his past catches up to him in the most brutal way imaginable, the peaceful man is buried, and the killer is reborn. He doesn’t just say, “I will get vengeance.” He states, “My name is Vendetta.” He is the consequence.
The Allure of the Vendetta
Why are we so drawn to these stories? From The Count of Monte Cristo to John Wick and Kill Bill, the revenge narrative is a cornerstone of our culture.
It’s simple. It’s clean. It offers a moral clarity that real life often lacks.
In a complex world, vendetta is a straight line. Someone causes pain; someone receives pain in return. There are no bureaucratic loopholes, no getting off on a technicality. It’s a brutal, primal form of justice that appeals to our deepest sense of fairness.
We live vicariously through these characters because they do what we often feel we cannot. They take absolute control in a situation of absolute powerlessness.
The Cost of the Crown of Thorns
But here’s the truth the best revenge stories don’t let you forget: Vendetta is a poison.
To become vengeance, you must sacrifice everything else. Santo, in “My Name Is Vendetta,” isn’t fighting for a happy future. He’s fighting for a closed loop. His relationships are severed, his peace is shattered, and his soul is the currency he spends to achieve his goal.
The path of vengeance is a lonely one. It requires you to become a monster to destroy other monsters. You may win, but the person you were at the start of the journey will be long gone.
Your Name Is Not Vendetta
This is the crucial takeaway. While the fantasy is compelling, your real name isn’t Vendetta. Mine isn’t either.
Our strength lies not in our capacity for destruction, but in our resilience. It’s in the ability to absorb a terrible blow, to feel the pain in its entirety, and to choose to build again.
Vendetta is about looking backward, obsessed with righting a past wrong. A life of purpose is about looking forward, even when it’s the harder path to take.
Healing, forgiveness (not for them, but for you), and moving on—these are the true acts of strength. They don’t make for a slick two-hour action movie, but they build a life that is full, rather than one that is simply… over.
So the next time you feel that hot coal in your chest, acknowledge it. Feel the anger. It’s valid. But then ask yourself: Do I want to be the hero of my story, or the ghost of someone else’s?
Choose a name for yourself that speaks of life, not death. Of the future, not the past. Because while “My Name Is Vendetta” is a powerful statement, a far more powerful one is:
