(published in Las Vegas CityLife; direct link)
Stars Tilda Swinton, John C. Reilly, Ezra Miller. Directed by Lynne Ramsay. Rated R. 112 minutes.
Home-grown evil: Does it owe to nature or nurture? The question, in We Need to Talk About Kevin, a disturbing psychological thriller featuring Tilda Swinton’s seismic performance as the guilt-wracked mother of a miscreant who causes much mayhem and suffering, isn’t posed in quite such a straightforward manner. Instead, it’s offered as a problem with no solution in sight.
It’s often assumed that nuclear families, social conventions and all the usual middle-class rituals and conveniences will ensure normalcy and stability, a measure of protection against the mayhem existing outside the confines of home and hearth. So then what accounts for the horrible acts often committed in suburban settings? No answers are forthcoming in director and co-writer Lynne Ramsay’s film, adapted from the chilling Lionel Shriver novel of the same name.
It’s a world where one woman attempts to come to grips, too late, with the actions of her child, and tries to work through her feelings of responsibility for what’s taken place. No matter how intense her efforts, she can’t move past her perception that the tragedy that’s occurred might not have happened had she behaved differently.
Holding out on the big reveal — what terrible thing happened, when, how, and why? — Ramsay (Ratcatcher, Morvern Callar) teases us with fragments of scenes to come, and passages set in the past, before allowing the jigsaw images to finally fall into place for viewers.
In a prologue, Eva (Swinton) is footloose and free, frolicking at a festival in Europe before marrying the perpetually happy-go-lucky Franklin (John C. Reilly) and giving birth to their child, Kevin (played, variously, by Rocky Duer, Jasper Newell, and Ezra Miller). As an infant, Kevin, due to colic or some undiscovered malady, can’t be consoled. As a toddler he’s extraordinarily unruly and disobedient, purposely dirtying his diapers as soon as he’s been changed. Eva seems emotionally incapable of doing much except gritting her teeth, drowning out the boy’s crying, and fighting back. The protracted battle of wills at one point results in a heated exchange leading to her son’s broken arm.
We Need to Talk About Kevin, while ultimately unsettling, is far from a flawless film. Miller, as the teenage Kevin, who bears not a shred of physical resemblance to his biological parents, specializes in the kind of cold, hard stares that last frightened anyone when Norman was taken over by the spirit of his dead mother at the end of Psycho; that is, the kid is more of a cartoonish goofball than a scary monster. As dad Franklin, Reilly comes off as far too laidback and clueless to be believed; really, all this nasty mother-and-son tension has been taking place at home and dad is left completely unaware?
Still, Swinton’s performance, inexplicably not even recognized with an Oscar nomination, is quite something to behold. Swinton expertly illuminates her character’s attempts to use her sole defense mechanism — a steely resolve colored with sadness and regret — in the wake of the carnage. After the tragic events, Eva attempts to live peacefully among people who will forever blame her for the carnage. It’s an unrealistic goal, as they’ll never forgive her. Locals douse her car and home with red paint; it’s as immoveable as the blood on her conscience, the guilt that weighs down her soul