Holland

It seems every big-screen suburban utopia holds some skeletons in the closet beneath the idyllic surface, and Holland is no exception.

Blending elements of domestic melodrama, psychological thriller, and character-driven dark comedy while sprinkling in some awkward nostalgia, this saga of secrets and lies struggles to fit its pieces together.

It’s a visually striking but dramatically uneven tale of obsession, jealousy, paranoia, and betrayal from director Mimi Cave (Fresh) that hints at Hitchcockian ambitions but without the consistent suspense or level of clever cheekiness to match.

The story is set in the early 2000s in the fictitious Michigan community of Holland, appropriately enough renowned for its annual tulip celebration and populated by a rather amusing batch of eccentrics.

Nancy (Nicole Kidman) is a high school teacher who lives with her ophthalmologist and model train enthusiast husband, Fred (Matthew Macfadyen), and their teenage son (Jude Hill). Everything seems normal before peeking behind the curtain.

It’s not long before Nancy, despite limited evidence, convinces herself the mild-mannered Fred is having an affair. So she concocts a plan to spy on him by recruiting a colleague, Dave (Gael Garcia Bernal), who is roped in by his attraction to Nancy.

As their relationship deepens, Fred seems to behave suspiciously, but what exactly is he hiding? Nancy suddenly has scandalous behavior of her own to conceal, which triggers a surreal downward spiral that threatens to tear apart the social fabric of the close-knit town.

The mildly subversive and slightly twisted film explores crumbling family dynamics with a winking self-indulgence. As a satire, it swings at some broad and familiar targets without having much new to say.

Operating within an exaggerated and sanitized reality, rookie screenwriter Andrew Sodroski stumbles in keeping the material emotionally grounded, which would enable more of a rooting interest in Nancy and her misguided motives.

Kidman has fun playing a woman who becomes consumed by her delusions. Bernal’s character might make a decent lover for Nancy, but he’s a terrible accomplice, and his bumbling mishaps provide the biggest laughs.

At least it doesn’t take itself too seriously. Yet by the time some cool final-act revelations are unspooled, Holland has already lost its bloom.

Rated R, 108 minutes.