We Need to Talk About Kevin (2011)

Apologies if this joke has already been made, but we need to talk about We Need to Talk about Kevin, a psychodrama about every parent's worst nightmare: a psychopathic, violent offspring. Poor Eva Khatchadourian once had everything: a happy marriage, a comfortable living situation, and a baby boy on the way. Nowadays, she's a ghost, haunting wherever she eeks out an existence, totally at the whim of a mob of people who mostly despise her because of the things her son has done to them. We start at the bottom with this story, after things have already happened and the dust has settled, and we see our poor heroine at her lowest point, and from there work backward to find out where it all went wrong.

This film tackles very tough subject matter carefully and considerately without shying away from the horrors it confronts head-on. Who needs The Omen, The Bad Seed, or The Good Son? Kevin is one of cinema's greatest monsters, the kind of thing to make young people fear ever having children. He blackmails his own mother in order to bend her to his whims at a very early age, he pits his parents against one another, manipulating them like putty in his hands, he tortures his poor younger sister, possibly even mutilating her when she's left alone with him in an 'accident, he corrupts an innocent and loving marriage, and perhaps most disturbing of all, is implied to have a nightmarish sort of Freudian 'fixation' on his own mother. While this isn't a traditional horror film per se, there's simply no other way to sensibly categorize it. It should be approached with more caution than most other such films if you're easily upset or have been affected by real-life spree violence, but if you're willing to put yourself through it, it'll get under your skin in a way that makes something like X feel like Hocus Pocus.

Yes, there's no skirting around it. If I haven't already made it clear, this is a film about what happens when human beings go wrong in a way that's all too real in 2022. Not because of anything they experience or because of any lesson imparted to them, but simply because something in their brain doesn't develop quite right, or perhaps a chemical imbalance happens, nobody knows; it's been a controversial and mysterious subject for years. No one knows why it happens, but when it happens, the results can be devastating to any number of people in close proximity. This isn't a simple case of mental illness, the kind of premise pitched by popular films like Joker. No, this is something more primordial, a basic fact of the universe, and it's far more frightening than any number of demonic possessions or ghostly rumblings down the hall. And not just because it actually happens, I should point out, but because it's totally senseless, seemingly making a joke out of people who say things like "Everything happens for a reason," and supporting the kind of nihilistic worldview that few people are comfortable staring down.

So this is a tough recommendation, but wait: it's not done alienating you yet. When it's not merely disturbing, it might just make you cry with its rare, beautiful moments of humanity, mostly from Kevin's victims in the ensuing years after his rampage: the ones who don't hate Eva and on the contrary, seem to worry about her. It stands out even more in such a dark, unpleasant film, but if you're not into the whole tear-jerker thing, I could see the whole film coming off as one big endurance test, in far more ways than one.

It all builds to a devastating final scene where Eva finally gets the chance to confront her evil spawn and ask "Why?" to which he doesn't give a very illuminating answer. But despite the fact that the film doesn't pretend to have the answers to the questions it poses, it's still in its own way very enlightening, and there's little else like it. It's also quite emotional, as it becomes clear that despite all that Kevin has done to her, her husband, and their family, she still loves him because, after all, he's still her baby boy. That parental love, that blood connection, not to mention the experience of struggling with him for all those 'wasted' years, can never be erased, and so she will forever remain in that monster's thrall and in the thrall of her memories, and of the knowledge of what he has done to other, innocent people. Not exactly uplifting stuff, needless to say.

Visually, it's a very rich film, especially considering its literary origins. It's absolutely dedicated to showing, not telling, as any great film should be. Its non-chronological sequencing allows its imagination to run wild, creating striking connections between its scenes and reinforcing its ghastly motifs, while generally making this film as artful as it is topical. It has a poetic streak that is shocking in its own way: Kevin's shooting spree makes disturbing use of his obsession with archery and Robin Hood, and what could have been a stark scene of violence is instead rendered figuratively, contrasting meaningful symbolism with no-nonsense violence. All of this is proof positive of the intelligence and consideration with which this story and the film in particular were conceived, which keeps this it from feeling exploitative.

The licensed soundtrack, with an emphasis on ancient country classics, is killer bordering on nerdy (especially given the last film I watched was Blair Witch 2. Yuck.) The sound design, though, is the real star of the show; there's an emphasis on discomforting, icky sounds: mouth noises, food chewing, and nail-biting, all of which renders even the more subdued scenes fairly upsetting to the senses.

And my god, the performances. What can I say that hasn't already been said about Tilda Swinton's career-making role as a mother living out a miserable, no, hellish existence but trying her best to make the most of it? She inhabits the role completely. She's downright spellbinding, really helping draw you into this dark tale if only because you feel such pathos for her. John C. Reilly's turn in a non-comedic role is, in its own way, even more impressive. He's always convincing in a role that is dead serious, with his sillier side coming out when he becomes a new father, only to be subverted as the experience of raising Kevin begins to take its toll on him, his wife, and their doomed marriage. It's quite heartbreaking, and it's all thanks to his lovable countenance; seeing it dashed and punished is truly tough to stomach.

But then there's Kevin, who's played by a number of different actors, and I'm happy to say that each and every one of them bring their A-game here, no matter how young. I'm serious; they're all great. Ezra Miller is the obvious highlight though, giving the performance of a lifetime as the young adult Kevin, and it's honestly hard to believe that this is the same kid who's been playing The Flash in those awful Justice League movies for DC. How the mighty have fallen, I guess, but it's also a lesson in how bad material can make a lot of difference in a talented actor's performance. That, or perhaps this was just the role Miller was born to play, in light of recent allegations against him.

So in closing, I just have to say that it's rare that a film I talk about could be considered 'important' in any sense, but today, we're dealing with such a film. Something that every person needs to see. Human nature is complicated, and not always consistent, and we'd do well to remember that people can sometimes go wrong. We Need to Talk About Kevin is required viewing for anyone and everyone who is willing to explore such dark, real issues in the context of a fictional film.