A young junior hockey player’s life is shattered by an in-game act of violence. In an instant his life is abruptly turned upside down; torn from the fraternity of the team and the coinciding position of prominence, he is cast as a pariah and ostracized from the community.
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Quietly tragic, unfolding with silhouetted faces and sparse dialogue. Focusing on fostering its heavy atmosphere, the vagueness in the story (at least off the top) felt pretentious and unnecessary - while cartoonish coaches and fathers felt condescending and laughable. Lead by a taut, powerful performance from Abrahamson, the film meditates on the role of a hero once it has been decided they're a pariah. Brutal.
The most shocking thing about this film is its simplicity: it lays all its formal-affective techniques (most of all how the sound design conveys a depthless solitude) and never strays from its sense of patience. But I was utterly hypnotized, and haunted still by Tyson gripping the sink, all the emotion held by his fist and the water's drip. What masculinity renders unspeakable only the cinematic image can redeem.