Lavender is a real movie movie. The dreamy cinematography, copious symbolism, and Bernard Hermann-esque classical score aim for a Hitchcockian vibe. You could criticize it for being something a film school student might make with a really good budget. Or for the occasional lapses in logic or moments of implausibility (there’s no way lead Abbie Cornish would walk away from the opening car crash so unscathed, but it sure is pretty to look at).
But what would be the point? For one thing, Lavender is as well made as it is entertaining. The central mystery is compelling, and even if you figure it out a little early, there’s plenty to hold your interest. For another, the movie tackles a weighty subject with tastefulness and ferocity. [Semi-spoiler alert:] The topic is sexual abuse, which is understandably difficult for many—including, most likely, the two women who walked out around midway through.
But the best, most psychologically adroit horror flicks have always been grounded in real world terrors, and anyone who cares about the topic will probably appreciate the way it’s confronted in this twisty, tight little thriller.
LQQK Rating: Queerness—0 (none to speak of, unless you count Justin Long), Quality--4
Follow me on Twitter: @HeyLockwood We'll discuss Lavender and other Tribeca horrors on the next episode of Monster Nation, youtube.com/monsternation