Why Isn't Everyone Talking About Kevin?


I can't stop thinking about the film We Need to Talk About Kevin. I had seen the trailer long before the Oscar picks came out, and had mourned its lack of recognition, even before seeing the movie (which was only just released in Bellingham this weekend). The film was a work of art, to say the least, with perfectly paced parallel story lines, rich metaphor, and stunning use of shape, color, and texture to create maximum visual impact (I don't want to say too much here, but you'll see what I mean when you see it for yourself), including a scene I can't forget where Tilda Swinton's character is forced to hide in a grocery store, and the camera captures her standing for several seconds against a wall of perfectly lined rows of tomato soup cans. And that's just the start of it. Swinton is a complete knockout. There are stories about parents with deeply troubled children that fall into the trap of cliche, focusing too much on the question of nature vs. nurture, but Swinton's character, a mother wrestling (sometimes literally) with a badmouthed, all around dark and disturbed child, surprised me up until the very last scene. John C. Reilly is always a favorite, especially in his serious roles (which seem to be rare these days)—think his unforgettable performance in Magnolia—and the trio of young actors who depict Kevin throughout various seasons of life are all mesmerizing and downright creepy (in a good way). Most of all, the final scene had me challenging myself with questions of grace and redemption, questions I thought I had answers to, and I'm still thinking about it, and I'm still bothered, and that's got to be a mighty good sign.