Among the students living in the house with my son and myself was at least one voracious reader who recommended several interesting novels (thank you, Liz Lundeen!) including Lionel Shriver’s We Need to Talk About Kevin.

The novel was one of the most difficult I’ve ever read in an emotional sense, a searing account of a mother who fails to bond with her child and how she copes with the terrible crimes her son commits as a teenager.

You may think reading my description that there will be plenty of blame to go around, but the book is much more complex than that, which makes it heartbreaking and authentic in little ways that most mothers can probably identify with if willing to admit human vulnerability.

What real mother has never felt self-doubt and exhaustion and assorted types of worry?  In the case of Eva Khatchadourian, a renowned travel writer turned reluctant mother, the worry and fear turn out to be grounded in unimaginable truth.

Lionel Shriver’s book is unlike anything else I’ve ever read (and I like to read!).

Lynne Ramsay’s film does a terrific job of capturing the essence and tone of the novel while remaining distinct and powerful in its own right as a film.  That’s the trick of adaptation:  understanding the essence of one work and figuring out how to translate what is best about one form into a completely different form.

The casting for We Need to Talk About Kevin is flawless.  Tilda Swinton embodies Eva Khatchadourian and John C. Reilly is perfect as her sweet and patient husband Franklin, who loves so much that he fails to see what is before him.

Maybe he fails to see Kevin because what resides behind those dark eyes is nearly unimaginable.  Or, maybe he just believes the side of his son that is presented to him by the calculating child.

In any case, the two actors who play Kevin, Jasper Newell at ages 6-8 and Ezra Miller as a teenager, are spot on in this film.

We Need to Talk About Kevin popped up in my nighttime dreams for two nights following its viewing.  I continue to think about scenes and images.  It’s a hard story to tell, a hard story to watch, and a hard story to shake.

Lynne Ramsay has created a film that is tough to watch but very much worth the effort.

Albert Nobbs is an 18^th century Irish woman who dresses as a man to make a living as a waiter.  Albert Nobbs is an engrossing, moving, and ultimate gentle story about the complexities of identity and vagaries of humanity.

Close gives a noteworthy performance (as does Janet McTeer) and not only stars as Mr. Nobbs but also produced and co-wrote the film.

The preview trailer for Extremely Loud & Incredibly Close turned me off a little because of the MOVIE STARS in major roles and what I thought would be the likelihood of storytelling clichés related to 9/11.

The film was a pleasant surprise.  The story is unusual and creatively told.  The performances are strong.  The visual style compelling.  Two small quibbles:  the film is a little long, and the amount of narration in the first half or so of the movie is a bit overwhelming.

It’s always a gift to go to the movies and get more than is expected.

After I saw the film last month, I immediately wanted to watch Election and Sideways again.  Actually, I did watch Citizen Ruth (which I had never seen) then opened a bottle of pinot noir and watched Sideways (the third time I have seen it).  I’ve seen Election many times for some of my research projects, so I know it holds up, and I was pleased to learn that Sideways holds up over time for me, too.

I like other work of Payne’s, like About Schmidt, but it’s really Election and Sideways that are the high watermarks for me of his work.

The Descendants is fine.  There are moments that feel emotionally authentic, and it’s fun to see George Clooney as a bit of a milquetoast with family events related to his wife’s accident and an upcoming real estate deal.  High points of the film often swirl around interactions with his older daughter, played by Shailene Woodley, who is very good.

In the end, this is a well-made film, I enjoyed watching it, but The Descendants has not touched me in any lasting, indelible way.  I wanted it to be more to me than it is.

I’m not sure what this means, but seeing The Descendants does make me less interested than before in visiting Hawaii.  Go figure…

Michelle Williams may not look exactly like Marilyn Monroe, but it’s hard to imagine how anyone could do a better job evoking the complex and iconic superstar.

That performance is one key to the success of the film, but the script (adapted by Adrian Hodges and Colin Clark from the latter’s memoir) is nuanced and engaging while also revealing a great deal about the elusive Monroe, her craft, her relationships, and her insecurities.

Similarly, the film presents an unusual coming-of-age story from Clark’s perspective (Eddie Redmayne plays the role) that feels emotionally authentic.  I did not know this story before seeing the film.

It’s tempting to compare this film to the 2008 release Me and Orson Welles, which I also enjoyed, but I think My Week With Marilyn has a broader appeal.

The success of Me and Orson Welles, I think, depends to a degree of how much knowledge about Welles and his work the viewer brings to the screen.  Similarly, knowledge about Monroe enhances a viewer’s appreciation of My Week With Marilyn, but enjoying the film and learning from it does not depend on having the context in advance.

It’s nice to encounter a pleasant surprise at the movies.

Pay attention.

The glasses are the same basic shape, but the lighter colored frames designate scenes before his forced retirement while the darker frames indicate the timeline after retirement when he begins a sanctioned but secret investigation of his former peers.  Keep the timelines straight, and you will love unraveling this yarn.

In fact, that’s how I described the film to a good friend of mine.  I’m a knitter, and this film is like an expensive skein of tangled yarn.  It’s tricky to unravel but worth working at the task.  When the knots become looser, the promise is palpable.  When the skein is unraveled and rewound, the result is exquisite.

This is an old-fashioned spy story featuring superb production design, fine writing and directing, and a terrific cast (Mark Strong, Colin Firth, John Hurt, and Toby Jones to name a few).

My advice to you is to take the time to untangle the yarn and enjoy a trip back into the intrigue of the Cold War.

Still, I felt the need to take a look at David Fincher’s film based on Steven Zaillian’s adapted script to compare.  Although it is longer than the Swedish film (about 2:40), the pacing is better.

I also prefer Rooney Mara in the role of Lisbeth Salander, which is essential in appreciating this film.

Otherwise, it’s pretty much a wash for me.  Both versions are suspenseful, well-made, good examples of the genre.  But, can’t we move on now to some other stories?

Although it earned Diablo Cody an Oscar, one of the things I disliked about Juno was the arch dialogue.  It took me out of the film.  This time, as Reitman and Cody team up again in Young Adult, the dialogue is less obtrusive, but the film will likely make viewers more uncomfortable than Juno ever could.

Charlize Theron plays a newly-divorced fiction writer who returns to her small town in Minnesota intending to get back together with her high school boyfriend by breaking up his marriage even though he is a new father.

Some of the conventions of the film play off of standard romantic comedy fare, but this film is anything but conventional.  Ultimately, as the viewer comes to see the main character not as she sees herself but from the pained perspective of others who know her better, the film turns increasingly dark and complex.

The result is a film that is painful but curiously satisfying because of the way it contrasts with commercial, Hollywood films.

There are some moments in the film that draw the viewer in, and I was surprised by Herzog’s access to interview prisoners and shoot sequences inside Death Row in a Texas prison, but there is little here in terms of insights and craftsmanship that has not been covered in many of the other documentaries dealing with crime and the death penalty.

I was disappointed.