White Rabbit (2015)
Matt Boiselle
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Starring Nick Krause, Sam Trammell, Britt Robertson
Directed by Tim McCann
Distributed by Breaking Glass Pictures
Right off the bat, I want readers to please not take my word as gospel regarding the thoughts and actions contained in White Rabbit. I’m simply a reviewer, and considering that the subject matter enclosed within this movie is such a hot-button issue, I’m not the guy to pitch a complaint to, so simply think of this as someone typing out a review at 3:30 am in the morning, somewhat swept away at what I’ve just laid my eyes upon.
Director Tim McCann opts to go the controversial route with psychological drama White Rabbit, a tale about not only the pains of growing up with an undiagnosed mental illness and the heart-wrenching difficulties that arise from it, but how those instances can manifest over time, turning into violent rages, uncontrolled by anyone who steps in its way.
The story begins with young Harlon, a boy who from an early age was subjected to a home life that could certainly be deemed “dysfunctional” – a drunk and drugged out father who ruled with an iron fist, a mother who was to afraid to stand up for her youngest, and siblings that were tormenting to their unversed relative. One of the film’s defining moments takes place early on when Harlon’s dad (played to trashy exactness by Sam Trammell) decides to take his two sons out hunting for rabbits with their newly-gifted rifles. Harlon’s inability and unwanted desire to kill an innocent white rabbit immediately tests his father’s patience. The resulting actions will serve as the lifeblood of the film’s motivation, almost giving it a pulse that you can feel throughout its presentation.
As the years motor on by, we see an adolescent Harlon (Nick Krause) as he spends time with his weepy best friend, Steven (Ryan Lee) – the two are the bullied duo of their high school set, and their only solace is shooting Harlon’s rifle along with the comics that he reads with fervent attentiveness. The comics appear to be speaking to the menaced teen, insisting that he stop being the cowering soul and to stand up for himself.
His schoolwork is suffering, and with the imminent threat of being held back, a small ray of sunshine skips into his life, and that is the presence of Julie (Britt Robertson), a carefree and maladjusted new kid in town. Harlon takes to her like a moth to a flame, and just as it seems as if their relationship could progress to another plateau, he suffers from a form of betrayal that further pushes him to a breaking point. With no one to talk to, his options appear limited, and he turns to the only object that’s been a constant in his life: the cold steel.
This is the point in the movie where we all know what’s coming with the only question left to ask being “When will it happen?” When the moment does finally take place, it’s graphic, it’s terrifying, and it seems to freeze itself in time as something we’ve all witnessed the aftermath of on our TV sets. The blending of Harlon’s real-life despair and mental disorientation brings the audience in for an intruding peek at a mind and soul that’s damaged, yet not interpreted so that it can be healed, and that makes for a saddening profile. Krause gives the character a presence that will cause sympathetic emotions to rise to the forefront, and he should be commended for doing so, while Trammell’s portrayal of the father would make anyone with a pulse want to reach through the screen and shake him into sensibility, but that’s the beauty of a role well played.
In the end, White Rabbit will probably not see repeated revolutions inside your DVD player as all it takes is one time to become ingrained in your mind as to the real-life horrors that have mirrored its presentation, but it is a film that should be watched. Highly recommended; look for it in select theaters and on VOD February 13, 2015, from Breaking Glass Pictures.
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Film
Categorized:Reviews
