Echo Valley

The beauty of Pennsylvania horse country conceals some ugly human behavior in Echo Valley, a tightly wound and consistently unsettling thriller elevated by a strong cast.

Rooted in grief and fractured family dynamics, this small-scale domestic saga from director Michael Pearce (Encounter) is mildly contrived and thematically familiar, yet also an incisive glimpse into the ripple effects of addiction.

Most notably, it’s anchored by a deeply felt performance from Julianne Moore as a conflicted mother whose desperation forces her to abandon her moral compass.

Moore plays Kate, a horse trainer dealing with a tragedy while trying to keep her family farm afloat. She constantly borrows money from her attorney ex-husband (Kyle McLachlan), much of which is funneled to their daughter, Claire (Sydney Sweeney), a junkie who ditched rehab and returns home only when she needs cash.

The willfully ignorant Kate is both an apologist and an enabler trying to reconcile her guilt and parental responsibility, and Claire takes full advantage of that vulnerability by stretching the truth with every interaction.

“I love you and I won’t let anything happen to you,” Kate explains before realizing the extent to which that devotion would be tested.

It turns out Claire and her deadbeat boyfriend (Edmund Donovan) owe large sums to a ruthless and impatient dealer (Domhnall Gleeson). Suddenly that leaky roof in Kate’s barn doesn’t seem quite so bad.

Eventually, her resilience and resolve are challenged further when Kate is forced to risk everything — with the help of a feisty loyal neighbor (Fiona Shaw) — just for the chance to keep her family together.

Moore deepens the film’s emotional undercurrents with a captivating turn that enables us to feel Kate’s agony as much through facial expressions and subtle glances as dialogue. Her uneasy bond with Claire doesn’t feel forced.

However, the periphery characters aren’t as well developed in the screenplay by Brad Ingelsby (The Way Back). Some twists are more compelling than others, including a doozy midway through that shifts loyalties and sympathies.

Echo Valley maintains consistent tension even as the film becomes more far-fetched in the second half. That’s primarily because Kate’s maternal anxiety feels relatable as she learns to weigh the value of hanging on versus letting go.

Rated R, 103 minutes.