Eva: Why?
Kevin: I used to think I knew. Now I’m not so sure.

I’ve just caught up with Lynne Ramsay‘s We Need To Talk About Kevin, five years after the film was released to a storm of controversy. I’ve not read Lionel Shriver‘s stellar nover of the same name, the one that dared to broach the taboo subject everyone would sooner have ignored and won awards. Alas, I’ve not read the book, so can’t discuss the parallels – that can be left to others.

That the film was ignored by the Academy is one of the great scandals of recent Oscars, but it is undeniably uncomfortable viewing. There but for the grace of god… they must have thought to themselves. The timing is all the more poignant now, given the recent publication of A Mother’s Reckoning, Sue Klebold‘s book about coming to terms with the actions of her son Dylan, one of the two shooters in the Columbine school massacre in 1999. Worth starting with a quote from Ms Klebold:

“A day does not pass that I do not feel a sense of overwhelming guilt – both for the myriad of ways I failed Dylan and for the destruction that he left in his wake.”

This is an emotional analysis of a mother’s breakdown after her son commits an appalling massacre at the local school – but also of her husband and daughter, of the way in which she is viciously treated by the community after the event, and of her guilt over the failed relationship with Kevin that she blames for the tragedy. Where blame lies is the moot point, though Ramsay wisely leaves the viewer to decide. I shall return to this point.

For the most part, John C Reilly‘s husband/dad Franklin Plaskett is a peripheral figure, adopting the “Hey, Kev” approach to parenting, giving presents including the professional bow and arrow set later used for appalling and wanton destruction – including his own death; the film is really a study of Kevin (Ezra Miller in his 23-year old guise) and mum Eva Khatchadourian, at one time a travel writer but later associated totally with the actions of her son.

It’s no surprise the marriage is on the rocks, since they are truly from Mars and Venus, respectively: he has no appreciation or sympathy in respect of her problems with Kevin. She might have had difficulty forming a relationship with her son, who cries incessantly through infancy and later fails to toilet train simply to spite her. Eva tries her hardest to form a grown-up relationship with Kevin, but senses from the start that there is something dark within him she cannot understand or manage.

Kevin has his own views about his boring middle class existence and the subtext that gaining notoriety gave him something he never had before – attention:

“It’s like this: you wake and watch TV, get in your car and listen to the radio you go to your little jobs or little school, but you don’t hear about that on the 6 o’clock news, why? ‘Cause nothing is really happening, and you go home and watch some more TV and maybe it’s a fun night and you go out and watch a movie. I mean it’s got so bad that half the people on TV, inside the TV, they’re watching TV. What are these people watching, people like me?”

And to put it even more succinctly: “I am the context.”

After the event Eva turns the other cheek while townsfolk take malicious revenge by splattering her run-down house and her car with red paint, by ostracising her, by breaking the eggs in her supermarket trolley, by telling her to her face what an evil bitch she is and even slapping her face in public – but they can’t do worse than the torture she gives herself. Interestingly, Ramsay makes Eva the most sympathetic character in the film, with undoubted blame attached to husband Franklin for shaping Kevin’s destiny – though by then he is not there to atone.

‘Why does she not ask for help?’ asks a friend. Most obvious answer that she does not trust anyone to help, but since she blames Eva first and last she would not consider herself worth helping. Maybe, like Ms Klebold, she should write a book to describe her experiences, but to take that step she would have to get past the denial and isolation stage, through anger, depression and finally accept the terrible and tragic trauma that cursed her life.

At this point, let me say that Tilda Swinton is not merely superlative but stupendous as Eva. Whatever she is doing in the here and now to try to keep up appearances, her face conveys the torture of her existence. She visibly crumbles before your eyes, a woman whose life has ground to a halt and who is haunted by circumstances. It is a towering performance, one offering depth and weight. I found it emotionally affecting without any need for histrionics. If this is not at least the equal of Meryl Streep as Margaret Thatcher in Iron Lady (for which she won Best Actress), I’m a monkey’s uncle.

For Swinton’s role to be at its most haunting, the three guises of Kevin must be credible. Between them, Rocky Duer, Jasper Newell and Ezra Miller do a brilliant job. Through Eva’s eyes they are almost the devil incarnate – you could almost see Kevin as Damien in the Omen. Miller is an actor with true presence, and the quality that Simon Hoggart used to apply to politicians, namely gravitas – “the ability to be taken seriously.” His Kevin and the punishment he applies to Eva is key to the film. You don’t and don’t need to see the massacre itself to understand its impact – and the fact that she did not end with an arrow through her heart is solely because Kevin wants only to prolong the punishment.

From my perspective, it’s a tragedy this opportunity has not been used to confront the gun debate (of the almost daily massacres in the US, how many employ a bow and arrows? And how many guns?), though you can see quite easily why this was not done. Having the film crowded out by the gun lobby would have negated Shriver’s point. It’s a sad world when the need for open debate is taboo, but for these purposes let’s consider the bow and arrow to be a metaphor for guns – easy to obtain and easy to use that side of the pond.

That apart, this is a film that is more relevant than it has ever been, given the frequency of massacres and the fact that some are at least starting to think what is the real underlying cause. Merely the availability of the means of mass murder is not enough – there has to be a psychological cause, and Shriver is suggesting you could spot it all along in Kevin’s case. Is that true of other instances, Dylan Klebold in particular?

Hindsight is a wonderful thing, as they say, but is not reasonable to think Eva could have done anything to prevent this – other than kill her son? She does break his arm at one point, though he rescues her by hiding this knowledge – both being quite sure he could use it against her at some point in the future. He leaves traps for her all the time, such as the computer virus that zaps her laptop. At what point could she justifiably think some action needed to be taken: discussing it with her husband failed, so what else could she do? What would any of us do, given that the enormity of what happened was impossible to predict – would any mother truly believe her son capable of random acts of slaughter?

On that note, time to close. But this is a film everyone should see at least once in a lifetime, at least for the debate it provokes and the breathtaking acting technique demonstrated by Ms Swinton. Would that I could award her an Oscar retrospectively…

(c) Andy Millward, 2016

We Need To Talk About Kevin nihilistically captures mental deterioration through a youthful massacre. Motherhood. The femininity of parental guidance many believe vital during a child’s upbringing. The sacred unbreakable bond between mother and offspring. Palpable. Producing a righteous trajectory in life, granting their children the most beneficial opportunities possible. For newly born Kevin though, his maternal bindings with mother Eva were far from archetypal. Incessantly crying whenever cradled in her arms. Deliberately antagonising her, relinquishing creativity and freedom. Appearing to purposefully loathe her, rebuffing any attempt at affection she supplies. Frustration nestles in Eva’s splintered mind, driving her to throw Kevin harshly against the wall, breaking his arm in the process. Control was his when falsifying real events, enabling him to emotionally manipulate Eva for the continuous future. Years later, puberty manifests within Kevin. His mind succumbing to sadistic visions. Inflicting psychological and physical pain upon those close to him. Until eventually, he commits a massacre that alters the mentality of its townsfolk.

Director Ramsay acutely shifts narrative expectations, boldly avoiding Kevin as a character. This psychological thriller’s fragmented structure, comprising of reflective flashbacks and present acceptance, transfers story responsibility to Eva. Kevin’s fragile yet strong-willed mother, dealing with the verbal and bodily hostility that her neighbourhood supply. Yet, as the feature progresses, it is transpired that Eva herself is the soul who lost nearly everything in life. Ramsay explores this sense of hopelessness, a path of redemption, through the character of Eva. The background psychology abrasively avoids Kevin as a character, solely analysing his mother instead. Her detached interactions with said child. Her depressive state of mind. Slight compulsions in her behaviour. Indicatively conveying the succinct dispensing of parental attitudes, and how they can affect a child’s upbringing.

Whilst exploration into Kevin’s cynical origins was lacking, merely exploiting the structure for a narrative premise, it conversely functioned as an enigmatic stepping stone into the psyche of Eva. Ramsay continuously forced the camera to observe her natural reactions whenever Kevin committed an atrocity. Conversational pieces would always focus on her. Again, it’s not Kevin story. It’s Eva’s. Ramsay yet again subverting expectations, whilst employing a progressively intriguing structure that blends two varying characterisations of Eva.

Exerting energy and expending days cleaning her damaged house and belongings, after they had been engulfed in a red substance. Symbolising the blood that Kevin spilled upon the town, and how she is unable to wash her hands of his actions, partially feeling responsible. The implementation of overbearing red throughout the feature exemplifying the emotionally intense battle for power between Eva and Kevin. Impeccably directed, every shot of McGarvey’s cinematography was sensational and provided a thematic inclination to the onscreen horrors. Rarely showing the ghastly actions Kevin took upon himself, allowing the audience to imagine the shocking endeavours instead. Incredibly powerful. Bolstered by a spacious screenplay that enables the pleasing visuals to tell a story.

The real shining star however, in what is a career best performance, was Swinton. Undoubtedly, perfection. There was not a single pitch out of place within her role as Eva. She beautifully embodied the emotional resonance of the character whilst applying additional nuances to her physical fatigued transformation during the present storyline. Honestly? Faultless. Miller was also outstanding, exuding a menacing aura forcing Kevin to be unhinged even during the most calming moments. The purposeful employment of Reilly, whom was indeed overshadowed by everyone else, aided in enhancing the bond between Swinton and Miller. A meticulous choice to grant him a lesser role, to ensure the spotlight was not removed from Swinton.

One could argue that Ramsay’s adaptation of Shriver’s novel provided commentary on American accessibility to youthful violence. Or perhaps media representation outing Eva to be the matriarchal figure of a monster, whom is equally to blame. Personally, these were not Ramsay’s attempts. It’s a literal bond between mother and son. Emphasising how delicate upbringing can shape malleable souls into becoming members of society. Powerful, palpable and pragmatic. We Need To Talk About Kevin is extraordinarily overlooked, and is a near-perfect contemporary psychological character study. But perhaps we need to talk about Eva instead...

Trying to depict the state of mind of someone who is both emotionally and mentally unstable and suffering from the after effects of a tragic event is very difficult to achieve in a cinematic language but I think Lynne Ramsay has succeeded well here. From the disjointed and fractured chronological order to the arty and surreal tone of the main character's flashbacks and visions, you get a good sense of what it is perhaps this poor mother is going through. Her mind must be all over the place, burdened by guilt and the memories of her horrid time as the mother of her nasty son. The colour red is very prevalent throughout and is something she cannot escape, from the red paint that she is forever scrubbing from her house, hands and car windscreen to the bloodbath she has to bear witness to at the end and which she will forever blame herself. The guilt and living hell will be inescapable.

There is always a danger in these kinds of films (and books) that they may not be wholly psychologically accurate and raise more questions than they answer. This film, and I understand the book also, doesn't really attempt to answer the nature vs nurture question in any serious balanced way - and how could we expect it to, that is a realm for science and psychology and something which may take decades before they are able to arrive at a more definitive answer. But art has been this way for millennia, it rarely if ever provides answers to big questions but is more about offering up one's own assumptions or take on these issues and inspiring debate.

There is a hint of a suggestion in the film that the mother wasn't quite ecstatic at the idea of being a mother (the scene in the antenatal class where she doesn't seem particularly enthusiastic) but there is never really a suggestion that once the child is born that she is anything but a good mother. The film leans far more towards the suggestion that the child was born bad and there was absolutely nothing the mother could have done about it. We see her trying hard from an early age to bond with Kevin but he seems to somehow despise her and manipulate her emotions even from a very young age - and this is where I question the psychological accuracy? Is it possible for a young toddler under two years old to despise anything and understand how to manipulate emotions in a callous way?

And in this respect, we could see the film as simply a story about the fears of parenthood from the viewpoint from someone who is not yet a parent, i.e. what happens if I have a naturally bad child who I cannot control and have a positive effect on...? And so a psychologically accurate definitive account of the nature vs nurture is beside the point but rather a story that tries to represent these fears, however irrational and they may be, is what we are engaging with.

I write this review watching the film for the first time - just after the 2012 Oscars where Tilda Swinton (and her new slightly questionable US accent) failed to pick up even a nod. I was interested to see why.

My first impressions were the judges were right. The opening twenty-five minutes are basically a jumbled mess. I had no idea what was going on. It took me a while to even work out that half of the story was told via flashbacks - see Tilda's changing haircut for clues as to which timeline you're watching. You get clues to what is to come, but they're so jumbled, they're almost impossible to piece together. This is supposed to wet your appetite for what is to come, but I just found it infuriating!

The filmmaker obvious wanted to be really `out there' and did their best to insert as many meaningless and (supposed) `arty' shots as they could which are dragged out (sometimes to bad music) and could easily be cut.

After five minutes I wanted to switch it off. After ten I was fighting my hand not to reach for the remote. However, it had such high praise I felt I should give it more of a go.

By thirty minutes, I have to say it was showing signs of improvement. Basically the first half hour we don't see Kevin (and when we do he's a baby). However, when the title character comes into play, we get a bit more of a story. Also, with the (proper) arrival of Tilda's troubled/troubling offspring, the filmmaker at last stops trying to relive their days at art school by cutting together random segments of `symbolic' material and actually tell the story (at last - hooray!).

It improves. Some of it. The flashbacks are linked together slightly better and make more sense. You get some element of linier storytelling, however there are still major bits that have been - seemingly deliberately - left out (the bit with the eye I never really understood as it's only implied).

Tilda also picks up the pace when she's got someone to play off of. For the first half hour she's little more than a drained zombie. If Oscars were handed out for that kind of performance every extra in Night of the Living Dead should have got one.

I don't know about Tilda Swinton deserving an Oscar. I found the only real reason to watch this was Kevin. Whether it be Kevin the toddler, Kevin the boy or Kevin the teenager, I found him completely creepy and menacing. He truly is the star, making the film at least come alive with his psychoses.

Bottom line: when the film is good, it's very good. When it's bad, it's practically unwatchable. It's definitely not your average film. It has plenty to be proud about, but tries to be a little too clever for its own good, leaving large chunks of pertinent information up to the viewer to decide what happened.

Arrived quickly brand new no issues at all disc played no problems such a good film book obviously is better though

This was an amazing story regarding a young man who seemed to have the attributes related to attachment disorder. This condition usually occurs when a child does not receive adequate maternal response. Although there were signs of his mother struggling during pregnancy, child labor and the early years of his life, do you believe that this is a strong enough cause to develop an attachment disorder. I would really appreciate it if the person who gets back to me watches this film in it's entirety and has knowledge of psychological disorders to inform me of his/her opinions, regardless of whether these are from a personal or professional perspective.
In regard to the film: Tilda Swinton is an amazing actress who captivates the audience immediately, as the film concentrates on her her entirely, it is clear that this women has amazing acting skills. I believe this can be verified by the watcher of this movie to continue viewing until the very end of the film.
Ezra Miller who performed the part of Tilda Swindon's son is also a fantastic actor which was proved to me by how i felt (negatively) toward him while watching this film.
Although I do not have any knowledge of Lynn Ramsey, who directed this film I would like to pay homage to him.
Lionel Shriver who wrote the novel I would also like to pay homage to: whom may possibly have the original answer to my question?!?!?
Last of all, I would like to praise the sound track to the movie- it is amazing and by the way, not what I would usually look to find, so thank you for introducing such great music and musicians to me!!!!!
Overall, I would like to say that this is an amazing production. This is a film that will ignite questions in ones life regarding nature vs. nurture.

I've been meaning to watch this after hearing Mark Kermodes review and others.

I haven't read the book as don't really read fiction (mainly autobiographies) but was still intrigued by the story and I really like John C Reilly and Tilda Swinton.

So here's what I liked about it, the actors who played Kevin during his childhood, where all excellent especially, older Kevin, had the real blend of menace and softness that made him disturbing.

The way the film was edited kept me interested, it wasn't just a linear plot but skipped back and forth.

Overall the acting was 1st class and photography gave it a visceral feel.

What I didn't like about it was, that John C Reilly and Tilda Swinton, for me had zero chemistry, I didn't really believe them as a couple, whilst both fine actors they just weren't believable as a couple, so I didn't really care about them separating. I felt sorry for John C Reillys character as he brings a naive warmth and vulnerability which makes him likeable but Tilda Swintons look is very cold and emotionless which worked in giving us a reason why she didn't quite bond with her son but also it left me feeling like I didn't really care about her at the end when we as the viewer are supposed to care about the tragedy that has befallen her.

I'd liked to have seen Toni Colette in this role as she and John would have been much more believable.

It was nine years after Lynne Ramsey’s second film ‘Morvern Callar’ that this eventually emerged and it was well worth the wait.

Opening with a collage of images, a detached mood and an excellent performance from Tilda Swinton, we are introduced to a woman Eva, who is existing with the aftermath of an undisclosed tragedy - fragile, demoralised and suffering hostility from the other townsfolk. In a non linear way, we then find out that Eva was once a wife and a mother, and as the fragmented narrative progresses we witness the unconscious and conscious ways in which she unwittingly contributed to the circumstances she finds herself.

John C. Reilly plays her husband, Franklin, whose parental style contrasts starkly with Eva’s approach to Kevin, but he has no idea of the antagonism directed at her by Kevin and fails to speak up about it. The mother/son relationship is central to the story, as we witness the development of an innate psychopathy before it reaches it’s natural conclusion. When it came, it took even me by surprise, despite having some ideas about what might transpire. It is truly shocking. . . and when that revelation comes, there is a note of tenderness amongst the shattered lives involved. It is subtle, but it is an incredibly humane epilogue considering.

Lynne Ramsay’s use of images is on top form here, as is her direction and the cast are uniformly brilliant. Ezra Miller as the young adult Kevin, is unnervingly convincing that their is something naturally off kilter internally - manipulative, cold and callous, yet able to wear a facade of relative neutrality. Even the children who portray the children stage of Kevin are well expressed. They all act reliably as the foil to Swinton’s Eva as they interact. I could go on, but will not.

A masterful character study and a chilling portrait of a burgeoning psychopath. Probably Lynne Ramsay’s masterpiece, only time will tell. I cannot recommend it enough.