We Need To Talk About Kevin review
Based on the novel by Lionel Shriver, “We Need To Talk About Kevin” is a chilling but frustratingly black and white portrait of motherhood and raising the ultimate bad seed. The Lynne Ramsay directed film has been on my radar since it made a splash at Cannes over the summer and I had braced myself to be more disturbed than I ultimately was. Tilda Swinton stars as Eva, a travel writer living in NYC with her husband Franklin (John C. Reilly). Like “Martha Marcy May Marlene,” (which I wasn’t in love with as most critics were), ‘Kevin’ exists on two timelines: one in present day which features Eva grappling with some kind of catastrophe that’s left her alone, hated and nearly catatonic and the second flashes back to Eva and Franklin’s discovery that she’s pregnant and the ensuing years of raising their two children: Kevin and Celia. Eva feels trapped in the suburbs, disconnected from her past life of adventures and travelogues and to make matters worse, her son Kevin is a complete sociopath from the time he learns to talk.
As in ‘Martha Marcy,’ the two timelines weave in and out of each other seamlessly—with your cue between the two time periods being the length of Eva’s hair—but like that picture, the structure becomes repetitive and feels drawn out. We’re given pretty much all the information we need to know about the central “mystery” within the first 10 minutes and the remainder seems to draw out each situation for suspense even though we already know how it’s going to end. Each sequence is essentially a riff on the ‘Kevin doing something bad’ gag that doesn’t particularly illuminate his condition. ‘Kevin,’ does however do a better job at the very least at having the protagonist actually do something proactive, which for me, ends the film in a much stronger way. Though the events in the film are horrible, it’s by no means a horror film (like “Rosemary’s Baby” or “The Omen”), instead an affective grief drama spotted with foreboding suspense but will likely make you think twice before planning a family.
One thing I have to give the filmmakers credit for is absolutely nailing the casting: all three young actors that play Kevin are each perfectly cast, each appearing like a credible doppelganger for Kevin at different ages. Ezra Miller, who impressed in the Sundance entry “Another Happy Day” earlier this year plays the eldest Kevin with a convincing icy glare. When he talks back to his mother, you can feel his hatred. The sound—featuring an extremely minimalist score (more like soundscape) by Radiohead guitarist Jonny Greenwood (whose only previous feature was the movie of the decade “There Will Be Blood”) and punctuated by the occasional ironically upbeat pop number—goes a long way towards establishing the mood of the film.
There are many allusions in the film to the massacre, with Eva’s house being vandalized with red paint, which she spends the film continually chipping away at, being the most obvious. Despite the filmmaking confidence on display here, I was a bit disappointed to see the morality is mostly presented as black and white. Kevin, as shown here, is pure evil. And I just don’t think that’s realistic, even the ones who end up committing horrible crimes, have some moments of joy and love in their childhood. There are no moments of levity here, save one crucial manipulation, Kevin is the embodiment of the sort of evil that doesn’t leave room for shades of gray. Unfortunately it’s that contrast that would have made the film a little more interesting. And for all the opportunities that Eva had to get Kevin looked at by doctors and psychiatrists and have serious talks with her husband, we’re not shown any of these things. There are certainly things to admire here but as my girlfriend noted afterwards, the film could have used a little more of someone talking about Kevin.
