Eva and Kevin make up a doomed family in "We Need To Talk About Kevin".
“We Need To Talk About Kevin” is a film of unrelenting terror and discomfort; one that left me physically trembling by the conclusion at the events I had just witnessed. Reactions like this are what I live for. “Kevin” shook me to the core, with its tightly-constructed, dream-like style constantly suggesting horror just beneath the surface.
“Kevin” is told as a non-linear series of memories, framed as a mystery in reverse. We open with Tilda Swinton as Eva, a woman who has very clearly been rocked by a tragedy. Pills lay about in her run-down one-room home, and neighbors are hostile towards her. This begs the question — what happened?
“Kevin” bounces back and forth between Eva’s present memories and ones of her past — moments of utter joy with her boyfriend Franklin in Italy, starting a family with him, and watching their first child Kevin grow into a calculated force of terror and unpredictability.
Franklin’s refusal to see Kevin for what he is will ultimately destroy this family. And as the film barrels toward Kevin’s 16th birthday, we see the worst in him, humanity at large, and ourselves.
“We Need To Talk About Kevin” is an absolute masterpiece, from top to bottom, beginning to end. Every aspect of the film both stands on its own, and is a vital component to the film’s overall nightmarish tone.
Director Lynne Ramsay has an impeccable technical grasp. The film itself is constructed like a nightmare, with the editing fluidly jumping 20 years, the red-hues providing a constant reminder of the blood on these people’s hands, and the shaky camerawork throwing your balance for a loop while remaining totally visually coherent.
Jonny Greenwood’s score provides much of the film’s power. The lead guitarist of my favorite band, Radiohead, Greenwood’s scores often stray from guitar towards more ambient, subtle compositions. I’m not complaining. This music is terrifying.
“Kevin” wields a counter-duo of Oscar-worthy performances from Tilda Swinton and Ezra Miller as mother and son. The interactions between these two will break your heart; Swinton’s devastation playing off of Miller’s steely insensitivity to great effect.
The really troubling thing about “Kevin”, to me, is the ambiguity as to who is responsible for the actions of the title character. Is Kevin just a self-propagated force of malice and evil? Or is he simply the sum of the actions of his mother, whose lack of support in his early years may have ruined him? Who is the victim? Who is the villain? And why is “We Need To Talk About Kevin”, a film I wouldn’t even classify as horror, probably the most unnerving English film since Kubrick’s “The Shining”? Here’s why — because it has the tightest grasp on film’s power to shock, wound, and feel. A
