Night Always Comes

Featuring an actress and role deserving of a more compelling film, Night Always Comes thrives on chaotic energy yet downplays its gritty character study in favor of a more conventional narrative of domestic strife and resilient vengeance.

This neo-noir thriller from director Benjamin Caron (Sharper) is a well-intentioned examination of the effects of a shrinking economy on working-class families living paycheck to paycheck while struggling to remain upbeat and above water.

That’s seen through the eyes of Portland bartender Lynette (Vanessa Kirby), whose story unfolds in the harrowing 24 hours before she’s set to be evicted from the rundown house where she raised, and which she still shares with her recklessly unreliable mother (Jennifer Jason Leigh) and developmentally disabled brother (Zach Gottsagen).

The best solution to keep them together is to buy the house from their landlord, who’s willing to make a deal. But that requires a down payment Lynette doesn’t have or a loan she can’t get.

That leads to more underhanded schemes in which she renews acquaintances with some shady characters from her checkered past, willing to burn just about every bridge along the way.

There’s an executive (Randall Park) who regularly pays her for sexual favors, a fellow escort (Julia Fox) whose latest job gives her some time alone in an upscale apartment, a former colleague (Stephan James) with handy criminal connections, an affluent yet dangerous pimp (Eli Roth), and others.

Driven by desperation and despair, Kirby persuades us to feel Lynette’s anguish and anxiety without passing judgment, even as we know there’s more to the story.

After some clunky exposition introducing both its characters and its issues, the screenplay by Sarah Conradt (Mothers’ Instinct) — adapted from a novel by Willy Vlautin — lacks subtlety in digging into the cruel consequences of socioeconomic class inequality.

Fortunately, Kirby (Pieces of a Woman) carries the film with a ferocious turn balancing rage, regret, and redemption. She generates hard-earned sympathy for a woman forced to recalibrate her moral compass.

The periphery roles aren’t given as much depth or complexity, however, rarely registering as more than just boxes on a narrative checklist along Lynette’s spiraling odyssey.

What is she ultimately fighting for? As her motives and loyalties shift, Night Always Comes reveals an answer to Lynette that we suspected all along.

Rated R, 108 minutes.