We need to talk about Kevin

The unsettling opening shot of a white net curtain dancing silently in the breeze sets the scene of Lynne Ramsay's superb adaptation of Lionel Shirver's novel, 'We need to talk about Kevin.'

Shirver himself has praised the film, something used prominently in advertising the release, the author's seal of approval stamped across promotional posters and trailers. Adaptations of best selling novels usually lend themselves to negative press. For every half a dozen people that enjoy the film in its own right, there will always be a 'not-as-good-as-the-book' naysayer standing with arms folded from the sidelines.

This doesn't seem to be the case here, and justifiably so. It was announced last night that 'We need to talk about Kevin' had triumphed at the London Film Festival, winning the award for 'Best film'. John Madden, chair of the jury, praised it for being "a sublime, uncompromising tale of the torment that can stand in the place of love." The amount of hyperbole being directed towards the film certainly seems in no danger of running dry.

The film explores a mother's inability to cope in the aftermath of her son committing a high-school atrocity, and the tell-tale signs that lead up to the event. Set around the sort of tense score that Radiohead's Johnny Greenwood is becoming so accomplished at, (There will be blood, Norwegian Wood) the director's use of symbolism in imagery and colour is consistent throughout, from the barefaced metaphor of Eva's inability to scrub the red paint of her graffiti ridden house from under her fingertips, to Kevin's deranged enjoyment of preparing a snack, deliberately spilling a jar of jam across a slice of bread whilst his mother attempts in vain to engage him in niceties. Harrowing montages of Eva driving or lying awake in bed, with flashes of disturbing dialogue and snapshot images of the event itself leave the viewer breathless. Her dilapidated house is attacked by trick-or-treaters on Halloween, whist she cowers in a corner. Director Lynne Ramsay makes you feel Eva's sense of isolation so painfully, it is impossible not to be drawn to her plight. Tilda Swinton turns in an incredible performance as Eva. She seems to thrive on playing this sort of feminist, tragic role, and is perfectly cast here.

The film raises the question of whether someone can be born a sociopath, or if this occurs through the way a child is nurtured, or as a consequence of troubling events that happen throughout their lives. We see Kevin as a baby, unable to stop crying, as Eva battles with the daemon of an unwanted child forced upon her. In early childhood, Kevin is reluctant to speak and refuses to toilet train. Eva's attempts at developing and caring for her child are met with an unflinching resilience towards her. We know that Eva never wanted this child. Is it Kevin's awareness of this from an early age, and the development from being slightly resentful of her, to bitterfully so that perpetuates the crime? It is on a particularly frustrating morning, with Kevin still refusing to speak, that she tells him as a toddler 'Mummy was happy before you came along. Without you, Mummy would sill be in France," and we get the sense that Kevin takes this on board, aiding to his feeling of animosity. Certainly there are signs that suggest that Kevin is already detached and monstrous from a young age. When Eva breaks his arm in a sudden rage due to Kevin's misbehaviour and disregard for her, as opposed to being upset, Kevin calculates that he can use this to his advantage, and as leverage against his mother in their ongoing battle.

Eva's isolation is apparent throughout the narrative, and her husband's naivety in the assumption that he has a normal teenage boy highlights the point. Eva's ongoing battle with herself is whether she should feel responsible for his terrible crime. Certainly there are enough signs that her son is drastically unhappy and in some cases disturbed. He considers his mother taking him out to dinner to spend "quality time together" to be futile. A typically teenage attitude perhaps, but it is the way he takes delight in belittling Eva and paints an opinion of the world which lends itself more to nihilism than to teen rebellion. She suspects him of being responsible for blinding his sister. Something unconfirmed, but again there is an unspoken malevolence in the way that Kevin revels in making his mother know that he is responsible.

The film adaptation makes less of Kevin's loneliness than the book, instead focusing on his family relationships, detachment and unwillingness to follow normal social constraints. Kevin is portrayed excellently by the three actors cast for him. Particularly impressive is six-year-old Rock Duer, who, during a reluctance to participate in a simple game with Eva of passing the ball back and forward, shows the audience signs where the character is moving towards.

'We need to talk about Kevin' makes for uncomfortable viewing. At times, toe-curling and at at others desperately sad, it is nevertheless a superb and engaging film that explores uncomfortable issues that are very rarely dealt with. To say this is a film about a student high-school massacre would do it an injustice. It functions on a much deeper level, dealing with the fractious nature of a relationship between a mother and son, and showing the development of a disturbed mind, and how something so violent and tragic can occur as a result of this.