We Need to Talk About Kevin

As the title suggests, there are definitely some issues to be discussed in We Need to Talk About Kevin, a harrowing and sometimes riveting tale of suburban parenting gone wrong.

It’s a portrait of both a troubled woman and a fractured family from British director Lynne Ramsay (Morvern Callar) that features a wonderfully complex performance by Tilda Swinton.

As the film opens, guilt-ridden Eva (Swinton) is hiding a tragic secret from her recent past that has made her an object of scorn in her community, especially as she begins an otherwise innocuous new job.

The film alternates snippets of her present-day existence with flashbacks that explain how she got to this point. It starts with Kevin (Ezra Miller), her teenage son who has shown favoritism toward his father (John C. Reilly) and unexplained disdain for his mother since birth, resulting in increasingly violent acts of disrespect and embarrassment that threaten to send both mother and son over the edge with their mutual hatred for one another.

Ramsay, who also co-wrote the script based on a novel by Lionel Shriver, has low-key approach that establishes mood with powerful imagery instead of dialogue. The script is both unsettling and darkly humorous, even if it’s more chronologically jumbled than necessary.

The film is a fine showcase for Oscar-winner Swinton (Michael Clayton) and also features potent work from Miller (City Island), who is a young talent to watch.

In terms of concept, the film calls to mind other out-of-control child stories such as The Omen or The Bad Seed. Yet the answers to the questions in We Need to Talk About Kevin aren’t quite as clear-cut. Why is the child’s behavior so malevolent? What is the motive behind the tragedy for which he’s responsible? And how could the parents let his outbursts progress for so long without confronting them?

By not addressing these questions fully and directly, the film challenges the audience’s ability to suspend its collective disbelief and straddles a fine line between mystery and manipulation. The gut-wrenching payoff when past and present collide, however, hits the mark.

It’s a cautionary tale of sorts, and a haunting look at a family in crisis from severe lack of communication. We Need to Talk About Kevin should provide a field day for behavioral psychologists, even if it just leaves most viewers shaking their heads.

Rated R, 112 minutes.