A teacher's exploitation is banal, the results unnerving
The way Meg sees it, everyone has a father. The trouble is that she knows who hers is, but not where. The not knowing leaves her in a stew that sears her heart and yours, too.In the opening scene of the exceptional and unsettling coming-of-rage drama Blue Car, Meg's dad speeds off in a vehicle of that hue, abandoning the teenager, her younger sister, and their mother in a leafy Ohio suburb.
The way Meg sees it, everyone has a father. The trouble is that she knows who hers is, but not where. The not knowing leaves her in a stew that sears her heart and yours, too.
In the opening scene of the exceptional and unsettling coming-of-rage drama Blue Car, Meg's dad speeds off in a vehicle of that hue, abandoning the teenager, her younger sister, and their mother in a leafy Ohio suburb.
While her overworked mom (Margaret Colin) explodes with anger, Meg's sister, Lily (Regan Arnold), turns her hurt inward, abusing herself with a knife.
Luckily, or maybe not, Meg (Agnes Bruckner in a performance of unflinching honesty) has an outlet for her emotions. She writes poems about her father's defection.
Her words are pearls with teeth and they sink deep into the flesh of her English teacher, Auster (David Strathairn), who is all too eager to be a father figure, and maybe more, to the very troubled and very pretty adolescent.
Written and directed by Karen Moncrieff, a former actress who elicits heartbreakingly fine performances from Bruckner and Strathairn, Blue Car is not an easy movie to watch.
The story about an opportunistic teacher unsure about whether he wants to seduce his student intellectually or sexually - or both - is overwhelming enough. But there are other subplots that only serve to flood the engine of this vehicle.
Fortunately, while Moncrieff presses our emotional buttons as Auster presses Meg's, the filmmaker never exploits the viewers as teacher does pupil.
Moncrieff is interested in exploring the banality of exploitation. What interests her - and us - about Auster is how people in positions of power rationalize how they're doing good for the powerless when in fact they only have their own self-interest at heart.
Palpably, Moncrieff makes us feel how Meg experiences Auster's power trip, how a teenager would be so hungry for a crumb of validation. It's rare that a movie makes a viewer experience the psychodynamics of an encounter so profoundly - usually theater is a better medium for that - but Moncrieff has exceptional skills.
While her film ties up its loose ends too neatly, there is something redemptive about a movie that concludes with the message: Accept no substitutions. A father is better than a father figure.
Contact movie critic Carrie Rickey at 215-854-5402 or crickey@phillynews.com.
Blue Car *** (out of four stars)
Produced by Peer J. Oppenheimer, written and directed by Karen Moncrieff, photography by Rob Sweeney, music by Adam Gorgoni, distributed by Miramax Films.
Running time: 1 hour, 35 mins.
Meg. . . Agnes Bruckner
Auster. . . David Strathairn
Diane. . . Margaret Colin
Lily. . . Regan Arnold
Delia. . . Frances Fisher
Parent's guide: R (sexual implications, profanity)
Showing at: Ritz at the Bourse, Ritz Sixteen/NJ