We Need to Talk About Kevin by Lionel Shriver
The gripping international bestseller about motherhood gone awry.
Eva never really wanted to be a mother - and certainly not the mother of the unlovable boy who murdered seven of his fellow high school students, a cafeteria worker, and a much-adored teacher who tried to befriend him, all two days before his sixteenth birthday. Now, two years later, it is time for her to come to terms with marriage, career, family, parenthood, and Kevins horrific rampage in a series of startlingly direct correspondences with her estranged husband, Franklin. Uneasy with the sacrifices and social demotion of motherhood from the start, Eva fears that her alarming dislike for her own son may be responsible for driving him so nihilistically off the rails.
Radiohead's Jonny Greenwood to score We Need to Talk About Kevin
We Need to Talk About Kevin is a psychological thriller tragedy film       directed by Lynne Ramsay , and adapted from Lionel Shriver 's novel of the same title. A long process of development and financing began in , with filming commencing in April Tilda Swinton stars as the mother of Kevin, struggling to come to terms with her son and the horrors he has committed. It received generally positive reviews from both critics and audiences alike. Teenager Kevin Khatchadourian is in prison after committing a massacre at his high school. His mother, Eva, once a successful travel writer , lives alone in a rundown house and works in a travel agency near the prison, where she visits Kevin. She looks back at her memories of him growing up as she tries to cope with the hostility of her neighbors.
A mother grapples with grief and shame after a son's act of violence in a spellbinding new film. You always have been your mother's joy. But what happens when everything ugly about the world is embodied in the son, when he's the source of the "sin and woe" that Phillips sings about over his ethereal zither? If the bond between mother and son becomes tenuous or broken, is that the result of his evil deeds, or the cause of them? As a baby, he rarely ceases crying, to the point where a frazzled Eva seeks refuge from the noise by walking him by construction sites, where the sound of the jackhammer five feet away provides momentary relief. As he gets older, he refuses to speak, refuses to allow himself to be potty trained, and asserts a manipulative dominance over his mother that his doting, Pollyannaish father Franklin John C.
We Need to Talk About Kevin () SoundTracks on IMDb: Memorable quotes and exchanges from Under license from Universal Music Operations LTD.
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In a sense, she can only really be honest about her feelings after the fact, when her family and life are shattered and the entire community detests her anyway. And in its best sequences, Ramsay puts her duress in dazzlingly visual terms, collapsing the past and present in an associative rush of red-streaked images and piercingly vivid moments out of time. When the film finally settles, it eases into scenes of a zombiefied Swinton, post-massacre, trying to carry on with her son Ezra Miller in jail and her neighbors openly expressing their hostility. It also tracks the mother-and-son relationship from the beginning, as an unresponsive infant and toddler grows into a sullen, violent, frighteningly remote teenager—all while his oblivious father John C. Reilly looks away.
She remained involved in the much-delayed project for two years, but eventually left and was replaced by Peter Jackson. The rest, unfortunately, is history. As directed by Jackson, the film not only trampled its delicate subject matter under a stampede of garish visual chicanery but also denied its own unseemly fascination with the details of child rape and murder through hollow professions of forgiveness and pseudo-spiritual uplift. We Need to Talk About Kevin would seem to provide an opportunity to see what might have happened. As for the results. We Need to Talk About Kevin offers no such exit from its suffocating vortex of self-serious exploitation. Here is a filmmaker who, like Jackson before her, clearly gets off on staging her touchy subject matter in the most ghoulish, button-pushing manner possible, unsubtly intimating the bloodbath to come.