We Need To Talk About Tilda Swinton

Instead of writing a traditional review for the masterful film written and directed by Lynne Ramsay We Need To Talk About Kevin (based on the novel of the same title by Lionel Shriver), I thought an associative list of impressions would be better. The film itself is made up of associative thoughts and memories, so I feel this is fitting. Tilda Swinton, probably the best actor now working, is outstanding. The film is shot from the inside of her head, if that makes sense, and her every thought and impulse is made palpable due to her prodigious skill. I can't recommend this movie enough. It submerges you entirely in Swinton's character, Eva Khatchadourian. (In that sense, the film is completely subjective.) The biggest question the film raises - and it slyly alludes to an older film that raised the same question - is whether a mother can love and care for her monstrous child. (See pictures at bottom.)

See the son. He is aware. Frosty contempt in his eyes, zestful cruelty in his behavior. He is like you. Pale in complexion, ink black hair. Thin. He bites his nails and positions them in a row on table. You remove egg shells from your omelette and put them in a row around the edge of your plate. He eats bread and jelly sandwiches for breakfast. So do you. You never wanted to be a bourgeoise suburban housewife. You told him so. He never wanted you as a mom. He didn't tell you. But boy did he show you. The only goal of his life is to destroy yours. But that's not enough. He wants you to know that it's him. Remember the story you read to him when he was a child? Robin Hood? What was his sole takeaway from the story?

Why did you prepare the room in your house that way? The color of the walls, the bed and bedclothes, the desk with the same book on the shelf. Why? Nothing was fine before, why allow your guilt to lead an attempt to negate what happened after? Or was it an attempt to repair your damaged psyche? Scrubbing everything away (i.e. facing reality) to build your life back together. Was it both?

Your husband is delusional. He says everything's okay. That Kevin's just a sweet boy. You try to talk about your son, but nobody will listen.

How much of his hatred towards you is a projection of your own self-hatred?

You weren't there, but if you would have been you would know why he bowed. It was on his face as he was being arrested. Can't you see? It was all for you. For you to feel his scorn and suffer the shards of his disdain. That fateful night was his masterpiece. Take a bow, maestro.




Tilda Swinton in We Need To Talk About Kevin




Mia Farrow in Rosemary's Baby