This is a deceptive little film. If, like me, you go into it blind you think you're watching some sensitive tale about a poor young man searching for his roots and trying to establish a relationship with the father who doesn't know he exists. Then, after 45 minutes or so the film takes an unexpected turn that changes it's tone completely before finally unveiling itself in the final few minutes as an exercise in subterfuge and misdirection. It's very well done, told at a leisurely pace despite its relatively short running time, and features one of William Hurt's best performances.
Hurt plays David, a slick modern-day preacher (who looks more like a redneck good ol' boy) whose sermons are more like a TV show than a religious event. His son plays in the rock band that performs on the church's stage – and this is no traditional church – it's new and shiny and has an electronic sign in the shape of a crucifix on its perfectly mown front lawn. When we meet him, he is introducing his clergy to a group of new babies who are brought on stage to be applauded, but when he is accosted by Elvis (Gael Garcia Bernal), the son he never knew existed, he is quick to discourage the boy from making contact – even as he gives him his phone number. David is an arrogant man, made shallow and superficial by his complacency. When his son goes missing he assumes he has run away and quickly sees Elvis, his illegitimate son, as a surrogate.
By then, Elvis has already inveigled his way into the family however, having seduced David's 16-year-old daughter Malerie (Pell James) and impregnated her. It's difficult to understand what motivates Elvis – a deliberate ploy by writer/director James Marsh – and Bernal betrays little emotion in the role. Looking back after the film's conclusion, it's clear that we're given clues throughout but it's easy for them to be overlooked – by the audience as well as the other characters in the film. Marsh wrong-foots the audience throughout, but not in ways that are flashy or meant to impress.
The film is beautifully shot and sometimes the choice of shot, such as the girl's hand curling around the hem of her skirt immediately after losing her virginity, suggested the influence of a woman's touch, so it's surprising that the film was written by two men. The story does weaken a little towards the end – would David, in his redeemed condition through his relationship with his illegitimate son really reveal Elvis's true identity to his daughter at a church sermon? – but, given that the plot reads like something from the most sensational of soaps, it's to the writers' credit that the way in which they choose to tell the story – and the way in which the accomplished cast interpret it – make us forget it's sensationalistic aspects.
Hurt plays David, a slick modern-day preacher (who looks more like a redneck good ol' boy) whose sermons are more like a TV show than a religious event. His son plays in the rock band that performs on the church's stage – and this is no traditional church – it's new and shiny and has an electronic sign in the shape of a crucifix on its perfectly mown front lawn. When we meet him, he is introducing his clergy to a group of new babies who are brought on stage to be applauded, but when he is accosted by Elvis (Gael Garcia Bernal), the son he never knew existed, he is quick to discourage the boy from making contact – even as he gives him his phone number. David is an arrogant man, made shallow and superficial by his complacency. When his son goes missing he assumes he has run away and quickly sees Elvis, his illegitimate son, as a surrogate.
By then, Elvis has already inveigled his way into the family however, having seduced David's 16-year-old daughter Malerie (Pell James) and impregnated her. It's difficult to understand what motivates Elvis – a deliberate ploy by writer/director James Marsh – and Bernal betrays little emotion in the role. Looking back after the film's conclusion, it's clear that we're given clues throughout but it's easy for them to be overlooked – by the audience as well as the other characters in the film. Marsh wrong-foots the audience throughout, but not in ways that are flashy or meant to impress.
The film is beautifully shot and sometimes the choice of shot, such as the girl's hand curling around the hem of her skirt immediately after losing her virginity, suggested the influence of a woman's touch, so it's surprising that the film was written by two men. The story does weaken a little towards the end – would David, in his redeemed condition through his relationship with his illegitimate son really reveal Elvis's true identity to his daughter at a church sermon? – but, given that the plot reads like something from the most sensational of soaps, it's to the writers' credit that the way in which they choose to tell the story – and the way in which the accomplished cast interpret it – make us forget it's sensationalistic aspects.