In detailing the protracted build-up to and devastating aftermath of a Columbine-like massacre, Lynne Ramsay (Morvern Callar) seems keenly aware that even the slightest misstep could send things spiralling into schlock. The precariousness of this high-wire act only renders her riveting film all the more anxiety-inducing.
Ramsay commences her portrait of Eva (Tilda Swinton) by presenting two disparate images of her protagonist. After dreaming of her younger days as a free spirit revelling at Spains La Tomatina festival, a bedraggled, haunted Eva awakens to her present reality: scraping off the red paint splattered on her home by spiteful neighbours, grovelling for menial work, and visiting her son Kevin (Ezra Miller) in prison. Unsurprisingly, the answers behind how Eva became a pariah lie with Kevin.
Zigzagging through her narratives chronology, Ramsay methodically connects the dots. Evas efforts to repress her resentment over an unplanned pregnancy and conform to the ideals of motherhood are masterfully portrayed by Swinton. Furthermore, its chilling to watch her facade crumble whenever she locks eyes with the contemptuous Kevin, who never once buys her ruse. Disturbingly, his escalating anti-social behaviour largely seems intended to force Eva to finally be honest with herself.
Consequently, the films intense sense of dread (abetted by a nerve-fraying sound design) not only comes from the spectre of violence looming over the proceedings but also Evas powerlessness: her inability to curb Kevins dark impulses is directly tied to her failure to shake her own ambivalence. And its Ramsays unflinching depiction of the penance she must pay for her crimes that makes this horror story so unshakeable. Curtis Woloschuk
