It rasped her, though, to have stirring about in her this brutal monster! To hear twigs cracking and feel hooves planted down in the depths of that leaf-encumbered forest, the soul; never to be content quite, or quite secure.
I am drenched, obsessed, up to my eyeballs in WE NEED TO TALK ABOUT KEVIN. Having worked with “Kevins” in schools, in custody, in the community, for several years (Kevins ranging in ages from Grade 1 to middle age)- I am of course, fascinated as to how Lionel Shriver attacks the material. But I quickly let go of trying to find answers and allowed the work to stand alone as a piece of literature and as a film. I truly love the bitterness and honesty.
I have watched the film twice, and I was reading the book through my panicked flights to and from San Francisco. It was quite surreal to be having a panic attack from claustrophobia on the plane whilst having a screaming baby beside me (desperately tended to by her mother) whilst reading one of the most bitter and delicious reads about a reluctant mother. Keeripes. Nausea.
But, I’m finding the character of the mother becoming a muse. Or is it Tilda that makes her my muse?
Tilda Swinton performs perfectly as the mother GUTTED by the horrific course of events. Her ravaged, maskless face reflects the interior of the character.
Tilda’s beauty comes not only from her stunning physical features, but from her intellect and her passionate embodiment of her characters.