Jay Rohr
Eric LaRue heads unflinching into heartache. Charting a course through tragedy, the film maps out the crippling confusion people experience in the aftermath of something horrific. This is the kind of rare film that isn’t afraid to leave audiences with unsatisfactory answers. That’s because Eric LaRue isn’t interested in relative truths. This is a movie about how people anchor themselves when knocked overboard by tragedy even if that leaves them drowning.
Judy Greer (The Best Christmas Pageant Ever) and Alexander Skarsgård (The Northman) play parents Janice and Ron LaRue. The two are trying to pick up the pieces after their lives are shattered when their son kills several boys in a school shooting. There’s no doubt as to his guilt, but how to deal with it is like trying to stay organized in a tornado. Meanwhile, the surrounding community is having various reactions making life difficult, at the very least, for Janice.
Some folks may be quick to point out the plot calls to mind We Need to Talk About Kevin, a 2011 film adaptation based on a 2003 book. Eric LaRue is a screen adaptation of a 2002 play by Brett Neveu. Both feature parents dealing with the reality of their children being responsible for multiple murders. That said, the two stories tackle the subject in profoundly different ways.
Eric LaRue quietly centers on Janice’s confusion in the aftermath of her son’s horrific actions. Not only is she unsure what to feel, but the way others seem to almost casually settle on their own responses is confusing as well. In that respect, the movie is about how the most alien landscape, especially in the aftermath of something awful, is other human minds.
As each character finds a way to deal with the deed, Janice grows farther apart from the people around her. One of the more interesting ways this is explored comes through Ron. Alexander Skarsgård turns in a heart-squeezing performance as a wounded man embracing faith as protection from pain. Eric LaRue handles this well by having Janice attempt to do the same, however, although both go to Christian outlets, since the two attend different churches, the remedies they received are strikingly dissimilar.
This allows the film to criticize the practitioners of faith as much as the religious ideology. As such, the film highlights the self-serving hypocrisy of people following a tragedy. Essentially, everyone wants what they think is best while blind to the fact their method of relief may offer nothing to others.
It’s easy to be sarcastic or scoff at some of the choices various characters make, especially the religious one. Yet, there’s no denying the authenticity of their behavior. Eric LaRue paints a painfully reflective portrait some may flinch from. What works best is the obvious logic of character’s choices. Although they may act misogynistically, angrily, or cringe inducingly awkwardly it never seems odd why they do so. With everything still fresh, the wound still bleeding, no one is able, let alone willing to see the rationale behind others’ decisions.
Though the focus is on Janice there’s enough of Ron here to call it their story. The same could be said of several peripheral characters. Eric LaRue takes the time to give so many people their say that although everyone feels heard, the film starts to suffer from the weight of all those words. The movie gets a bit ponderous, especially in scenes that seem to repeat one another. For instance, there are a couple interactions with the grieving mothers of Eric’s victims which become several scenes that could easily have been one.
This stems from writer Brett Neveu. During a Q&A after the screener I attended, he remarked on how writing the adaptation’s script inspired a desire to increase the content. This meant including material not seen in the play, showing conversations otherwise implied, etc., but unfortunately, little of the additions really add much to the movie’s overall point.
What makes Eric LaRue work best is some powerful acting. Judy Greer provides a performance a few award winners go their whole career without ever achieving. It’s a display of impactful subtlety, powerful line delivery, and infectious emotions. No one in an audience could watch this without thinking they know what she feels, though the film wisely never provides any certainty if such conclusions are correct. The ability to remain paradoxically clear yet enigmatic throughout the film is an achievement that puts Greer’s performance on the highest tier.
Alexander Skarsgård is equally moving as a shattered person rebuilding his life. He provides a wounded lamb easily in need of a hug, while simultaneously deserving an occasion whap on the nose. Helping him find his way is Alison Pill (The Newsroom), whose questionable conduct is wonderfully worth consideration. It really raises the question of whether people are being manipulative or just profoundly unaware how they come across. Something equally exemplified by the two preachers portrayed by Tracy Letts (Little Women) and Paul Sparks (Boardwalk Empire). They couldn’t be more different people; yet seem the same in their intentions.
First-time director Michael Shannon does an impressive job capturing subtle signs of color and light. Some scenes are muted while others shine. Momentary flashbacks are shot hazy leaving them distorted and poetically uncertain. It’s tempting to suggest he’s picked up a trick or two working with Jeff Nichols, most importantly, maintaining a narrative visual that’s easily followed.
Eric LaRue shares a quiet look at a wounded woman struggling to make sense of a world unraveling around her. It does so by showing each character acting with a certainty none of them could possibly possess. Some of these conversations don’t add much, causing the film to drag under the weight of unnecessary words. Still, everyone gets their say which will likely leave audiences with much to discuss. Michael Shannon paints an impressive portrait that hints of a talent behind the camera. Eric LaRue has no easy answers, but Judy Greer’s haunting performance makes that the profound point.
