We Need to Talk About Kevin

Have you ever wondered about the lives of the families and close friends of people who do these really terrible things? Knowing deep down that this person is probably capable of something awful, but you don’t want to assume the worst of someone you love, right? Tilda Swinton’s Eva has that exact dilemma with her son, and you see that dread grow over Kevin’s childhood until that terrible thing inevitably happens. The film does an impeccable job of putting you in Eva’s mind, always slightly unsure of whether Kevin’s just a difficult child or actually dangerous. It’s beautifully shot and edited, immersing you deep into this uncomfortable spot and holding you there till the end. It’s a heartbreaking, bleak, hopeless film and if that appeals to you (it did to me!), you can’t go wrong with this film right here.

Anant Nambiar

After life, which agonisingly drones on in the case of Eva (Tilda Swinton), she will be going straight to hell. Two years ago her son Kevin (Ezra Miller) went on a killing spree at his high school, and to this day she continues to wipe off his blood - from her walls, her floors, the windscreen of her car…

Adapted by Lynne Ramsay from the novel by Lionel Shriver and winning critical acclaim at the 2011 Cannes Film Festival, We Need To Talk About Kevin is an extraordinary piece of filmmaking, depicting the headache and isolation of Eva, the cage she is trapped in and cannot escape from. The discomfort, however, does not turn you away. It grips you fully through the torturous present and past memories of Kevin told in flashbacks. And everything takes her back. Sounds, places, colours...

Hauntingly slow-paced, it lets us witness events in full detail. Who is responsible? The famous nature/nurture debate is put to question: was Kevin evil from birth, or is it Eva’s postpartum depression, her distant attitude towards him, which created such a monstrosity? Is it even possible to find an explanation? Kevin dares us to do so. This mystery is the very drive of the film, making it a masterpiece of art as opposed to a psychological study.

Swinton’s facial expressions alone tell us the story of Eva’s guilt and torment. Dialogue is minimal, especially in the present; she has nobody. Miller shines as a sinister, unpredictable, strangely handsome and captivating Kevin. Both performances are outstanding, with Oscar written everywhere. We Need To Talk About Kevin is an intense and powerful visual treat. By the end of the film, all you’ll be wanting to talk about is Kevin.