Elephant (2003)

"Elephant" is an interesting experiment, which could benefit from some editing and stronger acting. The ambiguity that surrounds the motivations of the killers is a frustrating, but perhaps relevant, critique of the shroud of confusion that surrounded the Columbine killings.

   Parents, teachers, bullies, and the media were all held under scrutiny, and many school shootings later, we're still holding candles in the dark as to what motivates these kids to kill their peers- and themselves- in a time that seems rich with possibility.

Book Review: We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver (Possible Spoilers)

My Review of the Film Adaptation

Eva was a successful businesswoman and author as well as a wife and mother of two children. Now she is estranged from her husband and daughter. Her son Kevin is incarcerated, in the wake of a school shooting, for a series of brutal murders, Eva's world is cold and narrow. Her only real communication with anyone is through letters she writes to her husband, Franklin.

In this epistolary novel, Eva reflects on Kevin's history, starting before conception, leading to his becoming a vicious psychopath. She explores her own culpability in who he became, along with her conflicted relationship with Franklin.

From conception and birth, Eva was unable to bond with Kevin. Ambivalence about motherhood and the changes it would bring to her life, postpartum depression, an unsuccessful attempt to breastfeed, and the exhaustion that goes with comes with a baby who cries incessantly -- these are all normal experiences. Things many women have gone through before becoming basically happy moms who are madly in love with their children. But for Eva, this becomes a slippery slope, and things only become worse.

During her retelling of Kevin's earliest years, I felt trapped in Eva's mind, only able to see things from her perspective, and I suspected she was an unreliable narrator. I could only see things through the filter of Eva's memory, shaped by her own pain, frustration, and rage and by her knowledge of who Kevin became. She saw an infant who cried, not because of colic but because he raged at the world. A newborn who deliberately and vigorously rejected her breast. A toddler who slyly played his parents against one another and refused to be potty trained because he'd be losing a battle against the mother he hated. These perceptions are incredibly warped, not to mention developmentally impossible. Yet the novel drew me so tightly into the confines of Eva's reality that these things seemed quite real. And as Kevin grew into a cold, calculating boy, with an urge to destroy anyone who was capable of feeling real joy or passion, parts of it began to seem believable. Or did it? The line between delusion and reality is blurred here.

Would it have made a difference if Eva had been able to love her son? There is no clear answer. They are caught in a vicious cycle. Her attitude undoubtedly impacts his behavior and view of the world. His behavior triggers her rage and prevents her from bonding with him. This, in turn, deepens his hostility. They are locked in a cruel cycle which we know will end tragically. Nevertheless Eva, who has always relished pushing herself to tackle daunting challenges, works hard at being a conscientious mother.

In a parallel way, Eva and her husband Franklin are trapped in a destructive dance. Franklin is in denial about the fact that his son is deeply troubled. This enrages Eva, who pushes him to see things from her perspective. This only makes Franklin more fiercely protective of Kevin and distrustful of his wife. They have another baby, who becomes "Eva's child," and Franklin keeps their little girl at a distance, adding to the dysfunctional mess.

I didn't find Eva and Franklin to be likeable characters. They struck me as self-absorbed, a bit pedantic, and riddled with prejudices. Eva seldom views people with acceptance and compassion, she tends to view the world with cold detachment, and she maintains a slight sense of intellectual superiority. One of the most chilling and powerful aspects of this novel is the ways in which Eva and Kevin -- despite their animosity -- identify with each other. In her hauntingly sadistic son, Eva sees -- in an exaggerated way -- a mirror of her own dark side.

How much of this is her basic nature and to what degree is her personality painfully mutated by the tragedy she suffered? Again, we only have her perspective in the present, so it's hard to say. I also felt drawn to Eva by the insight and compassion she sometimes feels, her intense intelligence and curiosity about the world, and her love for her husband and daughter. She's a complex character who I couldn't love, or even consistently empathize with, but I certainly couldn't dismiss. And she is a character I will never forget.

This is a dark, miserable story which is likely to make you lose sleep, especially if you're a mother. That goes double if you're the mother of a child with any kind of emotional problems. And it's a brilliant novel. The central characters, and the themes this book explores, are so incredibly rich and multi-layered, it may take me months to sort through all my thoughts about it.

One of the things that makes it so unsettling is that it explores issues experienced -- on a much smaller scale -- by many parents. Difficulty bonding with a child. Raising a kid who isn't the child you expected or wanted. Seeing parts of yourself you reject mirrored in your own children. Disappointment in yourself as a parent and crippling guilt when their lives don't turn out as you'd hoped. These things sound ugly when you say them aloud, but I believe shades of these feelings exist in many "normal," loving parents.

This book also gave me insight into people with personality disorders: antisocial or borderline personalities. Eva seemed to have uncanny insight into the mind of her son, a person who seemed innately incapable of ordinary love, excitement or joy. This left him hollow and driven by rage. It's probably impossible to really see inside the mind of someone like Kevin, but there were moments -- in this novel -- when I felt I was extremely close.

This is a novel that left me feeling ragged. I want to put it out of my mind, and at the same time I don't want to stop thinking about it. I don't want to talk about it, and I'm burning to discuss it with someone. I want to see inside Kevin's and Eva's minds, but it's too unsettling.

Above all, it's a gorgeously written, challenging novel, probably one of the best I've ever read, and it's one of those rare books that shifted my view of people and of the world a little bit. It's definitely one I will never forget.

Have you read this book? If so, what are your thoughts?

Film Review: We Need to Talk About Kevin (Mild Spoilers)

When I was in high school, way back in the dark ages when Ronald Reagan was serving his first term in office, I read Rage by Stephen King. It's a dark, wonderful novella about a young teen acting out his violent urges in the classroom. I thought it was a clever, unique idea. Eerily believable, but safely outside the bounds of reality.

Much later, when I'd become the mother of two young kids -- one of whom was in school -- we all heard the news of the killings in Columbine, and our world changed. It was the first of many such incidents which left our country scrambling for answers. How does a child become a seemingly remorseless killer? The media has rounded up the usual suspects, everything from bad parenting to an overabundance of violent video games and heavy metal music. In our eagerness to wrap our minds around something that baffles and terrifies us, we clutch at every possible explanation.

Unsurprisingly, grappling with the tragedy of school shootings has become part of the zeitgeist of our time, reflected in various novels and movies. Among the most recent is Lynne Ramsay's We Need to Talk About Kevin, adapted from the novel of the same title by Lionel Shriver.

This film tells its story from the perspective of Eva Khatchadourian (Tilda Swinton), mother of Kevin, a high school student who, at age 15, took the lives of some of his classmates. Treated as a pariah by the community and in greatly reduced financial circumstances, Eva accepts a job with a small travel agency. As she goes through her quotidian routines, she is treated with rage or contempt everywhere she goes. Even a simple trip to the grocery store becomes a humiliating ordeal.

The story we see on screen is almost a stream of consciousness, shifting back and forth in time. We see her in the present, going through the motions of living and enduring silent visits with Kevin in the juvenile detention facility. We catch glimpses of happier times, before she and her husband had children, snippets of the incident at the high school, which crushed so many lives, and a jumble of memories of her life with Kevin, from conception through adolescence. Although Eva says little about what is going through her mind, I sense that she's reliving the past, remembering Kevin as a disturbed boy, and wondering whether she, in some way, is to blame.

Eva appears to have been ambivalent about pregnancy and new motherhood. Kevin's infancy was difficult -- he seems to have had colic and cried constantly. We get the impression that, because of all this, Eva had a great deal of difficulty bonding with her son. Are we meant to believe this contributed to Kevin's blossoming sociopathy? 

As a small child, Kevin develops atypically, showing what might be interpreted as signs of autism -- he doesn't talk, doesn't respond to attempts to engage him in play, has low muscle tone, and is very late potty training. Of course, people on the autism spectrum don't tend to be sociopathic. And even from a tender age, we see something dark and unnerving in Kevin. Eva sometimes responds badly to his behavior, locking them both in a vicious cycle.

Eva's husband Franklin (John C. Reilly), who plays a disappointingly small role in this film, seems to bond easily with Kevin. We see Kevin deliberately cultivate that while treating his mother with contempt -- artfully playing his parents against each other. And as Kevin grows from a scary kid to a dangerous teenager, Franklin remains solidly in denial. (Which doesn't explain, to my satisfaction, why Eva didn't insist on getting the child professional help. Is there a part of her that's in denial too? Is she hobbled by her own guilt? But I digress.)

It's easy to see why this movie received so much critical acclaim. Tilda Swinton was magnificent -- her portrayal of Eva, a woman whose world has constricted tightly around her leaving her with little but grief and regret, is harrowing. While I didn't find her a particularly likeable character, she earned my empathy and respect. Ezra Miller's performance, as the adolescent Kevin, is chilling. He is a young actor to watch.

I found the abrupt shifts in time a bit confusing but incredibly effective. I felt like I was seeing the world through Eva's mind, constantly churning with memories, regrets, and disturbing flashbacks. This was enhanced by skillful cinematography and glimpses of stillness and silence at just the right moments.

The movie left me with plenty of questions. Here is one. The story is told from Eva's point of view; to what degree are her memories skewed? When Kevin was a small child, we see a deliberate maliciousness in his refusal to respond to her efforts to help him develop normally. Was this real? Or was this a product of her imagination, addled with weariness and frustration? Did Kevin actually coldly play his parents against each other as we see him doing on screen? Or did Eva's difficult emotions at that time skew her memories? Was Franklin really as frustratingly oblivious to Kevin's problems as she remembers? Is her perception that nearly everyone treats her with hostility accurate? Or is she, in some sense, an unreliable narrator?

This movie is incredibly disturbing, especially to a viewer who happens to be a mom. It's also thought-provoking. It's likely to leave viewers wrestling with questions about what triggers sociopathy in children. What causes evil to grow where we expect to see only innocence? What role, if any, do the parents play in this? Do we scapegoat the parents of seriously disturbed youngsters? None of us are perfect parents (believe me), but people find it surprisingly easy to cast the first stone. Maybe that makes people feel safe. If the parents of evil or seriously disturbed youngsters are horrible people, then what's happening to them won't touch us. We're good people. Our children will turn out O.K. 

If only life were so simple.

We Need to Talk About Kevin is an impressive film. A very visual style of storytelling, which lets us into Eva's world while wisely not revealing too much, outstanding acting and direction, and artful cinematography -- along with difficult and timely themes -- make this movie incredibly memorable. 

Do I recommend it? Absolutely. Will I ever watch it again? Hell no. I am reading the novel though, hoping for more insight into these characters. Because that's just the kind of masochist I am.

Rating: (4.5/5)

Cherished Favorite	Excellent Film	Good Movie	Meh	Definitely Not For Me

The Hate List by Jennifer Brown

When I was in high school, I read Stephen King's Rage, which took readers into the mind of a boy who went over the edge and shot some of his classmates. I found it a horrible yet fascinating premise -- safely in the realm of fiction.* Since then, this unthinkable act has become a reality at Columbine, Virginia Tech, and at least 50 other schools in the U.S. and in other parts of the world. It's not surprising that novels about school shootings are emerging, as we collectively try to make sense of this.

Jennifer Brown's The Hate List takes on the courageous task of peeking into the mind of a school shooter and especially of delving into the experiences of survivors. The protagonist, Valerie Leftman, had never fit in at her high school. However she had a small group of friends, and through them, she found her first love. Her boyfriend, Nick, shared her frustration with the cliques and bullying at school. Together, they filled a notebook with "the hate list." It was a list of what they hated, including bullies in their school, classmates they associated with the crowd that ostracized them, things like "Algebra" (you can't add letters to numbers) and pretentious newscasters.

This gave Valerie and Nick a safe way to vent their anger and express their rather dark, edgy sense of humor. However, Valerie began to see clues that Nick's mind was darker and more troubled than she had suspected. Then the unthinkable happened, and Nick brought a gun to school. While Valerie struggled to stop him, he opened fire, targeting people on their hate list.

After the shooting, in which Valerie herself was injured, she was suspected as an accomplice. Although charges were dropped, she is still under the shadow of guilt, even in the eyes of her own parents. Now, after spending the summer as a recluse, Valerie has to find the courage to return to school and face her grieving fellow students. Will they be able to forgive her? Will she be able to forgive herself?

The story alternates fluidly between the present, the time when she and Nick were together, and the actual day of the shooting. In the present, Valerie returns to the quotidian of high school life, struggling to cope with classmates' anger and her alienation from her former friends. She is also dealing with her parents' disappointment and distrust and the continuing disintegration of their marriage.

Jennifer Brown did a beautiful job of taking us inside Valerie's mind, and this, for me, was what made the book so difficult to put down. It played on my emotions, provoking anger, sadness, and hope, and I found myself wholeheartedly rooting for Valerie.

The author also created a cast of secondary characters, with mixed results. For example, I really liked Mr. Hieler, her therapist, and found him believable. However Valerie's eccentric art teacher seemed wafer-thin, which disappointed me, because I thought she had the potential to be a strong, interesting character. I never really got a sense of who Valerie's classmates were, and I would have liked to have known them better. However, I got to know Nick, the killer, as a multi-dimensional person. I never felt I really understood what prompted him to commit murder and suicide, but I think that is part of the story. No one -- even Valerie, who loved him -- could get inside his mind. He committed acts which simply defy explanation.

Despite some flaws, this was an unforgettable book for me, one that was thought provoking and wedged itself into my heart. The author deftly explored the themes of grief, forgiveness, and coming of age, and she showed Valerie grow, deepen in her capacity for empathy and acceptance, and gain freedom from the past. Jennifer Brown is definitely an author to watch!

*I read that since school shootings have become a reality, Stephen King has pulled this book out of print.

Thanks to the author and to Reggie at The Undercover Book Lover (Not Really) for this book, which I won in a random drawing.

Read More Reviews:
A Good Addiction
My Friend Amy
Mrs. Magoo Reads
Steph Su Reads
Dog-eared and Well-read
Basil & Spice
The Compulsive Reader

Rating: 4

5- Cherished Favorite	4 - Keep in My Library	3 - Good Read	2 - Meh	1 - Definitely Not For Me

Beautiful Boy

Within a span of a couple of years, two indie films with very similar premises hit festivals, their names being We Need to Talk About Kevin and Beautiful Boy. I have just seen the latter, a tremendously acted film that deals with the aftermath of rather than the build-up to a school shooting, and concentrates on the grieving parents of the shooter.

    The tagline of this movie, "Everything seemed perfect... Everything would change" is grossly inaccurate, as the group in question is not a happy family. Katie and Bill (Maria Bello and Michael Sheen) are trapped in a failing marriage to the point of sleeping in separate beds, while college student Sam (Kyle Gallner) is suicidally depressed and can barely contain his tears as he talks to his parents by phone, as it turns out, for the last time.

     Beautiful Boy's shooter does not seem to be a psychopath, as We Need to Talk About Kevin's promos show their angry young man to be. Rather, he seems to be a deeply unhappy person who irrationally not only wants to die, but wants to take some people with him.

    Frankly, I don't agree with the film's statement that "it's nobody's fault." Except in some rare cases, people are to some degree responsible for their own actions. If you say it is in no way the shooter's fault, you're taking away his role as perpetrator. Should we say the same for rapists? Pedophiles? If you don't consider the kid a monster, fine (nor do I), but give me something here.

   Paired with the son's seemingly average home life, this makes the film's act of violence rather puzzling. What really stands out is the acting, Maria Bello, primarily, but also Michael Sheen, Kyle Gallner, and Alan Tudyk (from the great series Firefly) as the concerned brother. The peculiarly named Moon Bloodgood and Meat Loaf are decent too, though not notably so. Some of Beautiful Boy reminded me of Todd Fields' In The Bedroom, the guilt, the blame-placing, and the grief, without the relentless grimness of Fields film.

   One plus is the minimal use of music to make a point, which is always applied with buzz kill in mainstream American films. Beautiful Boy is an emotional film -- try to watch the scene where the parents receive the news without your lip a-quivering, and excellently acted, but a certain something from being an "unforgettable film."

   It may be the sentimentality or naivete placed deep within the script or the fact that, although there are many characters to care about, there are none who blow you away. I'm interested to see what We Need to Talk About Kevin does with the subject matter, and whether it surpasses this in content or style.

The Life Before Her Eyes by Laura Kasischke

They're in the girls' room when they hear the first dot-dot-dot of semi-automatic gunfire. It sounds phony and far away, and they keep doing what they're doing -- brushing their hair, looking at their reflections in the mirror ...
Dot-dot-dot

Seventeen-year-old Diana and Maureen are best friends -- beautiful, radiant and full of life and good health. Maureen is devoutly religious. Diana is rebellious and sexually adventurous. They're both smart, funny and compassionate. As the story opens, they are sharing an ordinary moment in the school bathroom. Then a disturbed fellow student bursts in and points a gun at each of them in turn, asking "Which of you girls should I kill?"

Then we flash forward 23 years. Diana is 40 years old, still beautiful and married to a philosophy professor who wrestles with questions about good and evil and the nature of the human conscience. They have a lovely, healthy eight-year-old daughter, Emma, a house, and a garden. Yet even as Diana reflects on her perfect life, her world seems to become more and more fragile. The narrative fluidly slides back and forth between 40-year-old Diana's life and her life as a teenager.

In her adult life, it is springtime, and the season is described with breathtakingly beautiful imagery that illuminates both natural beauty, with the blooming of new life, and the scent of decay. This creates a mood that reflects many of the novel's themes: the urgency of life in the face of death, the contrast between good and evil, and the fragility of one's existence. There is also a sense of reality being partly created through one's perceptions. For example, the adult Diana suddenly realizes she can't remember how long it's been since she saw birds. When the thought occurs to her, birds suddenly return to the world, and she is surrounded by the sight and sound of them.

This is a gorgeous novel, both a story and a glimpse at Diana's dreamlike inner world. Laura Kasischke is a poet, and this shines through clearly in her elegant, imaginative prose. The book explores the metamorphosis from adolescence to midlife. It also asks some thought-provoking questions. For example, how much of our lives are made up of actual events and how much is woven from our thoughts and perceptions? How much of a person's identity is based on the person she will become? This intricate web of ideas is part of what makes this book, for me, unforgettable.

After I finished The Life Before Her Eyes, I had a burning need to talk to someone about it, but I didn't know anyone else who had actually read it. I don't want to say any more here, because I don't want to reveal spoilers. If anyone has read it, I'd love to hear your thoughts! If you include spoilers in your comment, please just include a spoiler warning at the beginning.

Thoughts on the Movie Adaptation:
This novel was spun, almost in a stream of consciousness style, from Diana's sometimes dreamlike experiences, thoughts, and memories, so it must have been difficult to adapt to the screen. Although inevitably it lacked much of the richness of the novel, I did get absorbed in this movie. I especially enjoyed the excellent performances by Uma Thurman, Evan Rachel Wood, and Eva Amurri.

The film's creators tried to capture some of the novel's imagery and symbolism through vibrant images, and the cinematography is gorgeous. For instance, we often see vivid pictures of birds on the screen, and birds are woven into the dialogue. For example, the adolescent Diana's science teacher mentions the Bernoulli Principle, explaining how birds achieve flight, and compares the rather troubled, rebellious Diana to a bird who has flown off course. The opening frames are filled with beautiful images of flowers blooming and decaying, and flowers appear throughout the movie, as they do in the book. These images, highlighting the tangled themes of life, death, and the fragility of our existence and our sense of reality, accurately reflect the novel.

I highly recommend this movie, though it is a bit confusing -- it's even more ambiguous than the book, which had me scratching my head more than once. This is an especially good pick if you enjoy extravagant cinematography and complex dramas.


Rating: 5

5- Cherished Favorite	4 - Keep in My Library	3 - Good Read	2 - Meh	1 - Definitely Not For Me