There’s an alluring, hazy atmosphere waiting to be peeled back in director William Oldroyd’s (2016’s Lady Macbeth) adaptation of Ottessa Moshfegh’s debut novel Eileen. This feeling permeates throughout the entire tight 98-minute runtime, even when the film becomes something else entirely — almost at its own expense.

Set in 1964 Massachusetts and made with the most endearing pulpy sentiments, Eileen follows 24-year-old Eileen (Thomasin McKenzie) as she works a mundane job at a nearby prison. By night, she’s left to deal with her alcoholic father, Jim (Shea Whigham), picking up after his mess. After a new counselor, Rebecca (Anne Hathaway), begins working at the same prison, she takes Eileen under her wing. Eileen lusts after Rebecca, and she suddenly finds herself unexpectedly thrust into a world of crime.

Eileen doesn’t waste any time in revealing its main topic of interest: sexual gratification and impulse. In the very opening scene, Eileen watches an unknown man and woman make out in a car next to her. After watching and getting off on them, Eileen throws snow into her pants to quell her sexual desire. It’s a theme that is constantly explored throughout the film to mostly solid effect — often expressed through suppressed looks behind closed doors.

Situating the film within a juvenile prison facility was clearly an intentional choice, creating vivid imagery of Eileen being locked away from the life she truly wishes for herself. Ari Wegner’s cinematography appropriately creates a confining effect for the audience while beautifully capturing the classic look of 50s and 60s cinema. Through the foil subplot of Rita Polk (Marin Ireland) dealing with the ramifications of her younger son (Sam Nivola) murdering his father, Eileen finds herself increasingly pulled away from her routine life.

The slower-paced first two acts create a distinct vibe that pulls the audience in, although some of the scenes begin to feel repetitive. A primary example is found in the father-daughter relationship between Eileen and Jim. Their scenes together often serve to give the audience more information about Eileen through her father’s lens: how he sees her change once she becomes infatuated with Rebecca, how she becomes “almost interesting,” and, ultimately, how he feels she’s destined to be unnoticed in life. Whigham has some good line deliveries, but the father-daughter dynamic quickly grows old. As a character, Jim feels underwritten and one-note.

Instead, the film’s most engaging and intoxicating scenes are found in the form of Eileen and Rebecca’s relationship. Rebecca represents a way out, another way of life entirely from everything Eileen has come to know. Rebecca liberates her from the unfortunate boredom and loneliness of everyday life, giving the way forward a newfound sense of meaning. Both McKenzie and Hathaway work together to give dynamic performances, playing off each other with ease. McKenzie continues to assert herself as an exciting new voice in the world of independent cinema. Hathaway portrays Rebecca as hard to read throughout, an enigma of insurmountable forces that the audience can’t look away from — just as Eileen herself can’t. However, Eileen’s fascination over Rebecca remains merely that: fascination that keeps the viewer at a standstill.

More time could’ve been devoted in the screenplay to watching Eileen and Rebecca come together before the film’s major tonal shift, halting the natural growth of their co-dependence. As fun and tense as the film’s final turn is, the script relies a bit too much on it as a crux to surprise the audience. We never fully get to feel the fallout of the character’s actions, leaving the ending chilling but slightly anti-climactic.

Eileen makes for a uniquely entertaining watch despite its issues. With thrilling albeit brief doses of surrealism and two spirited performances at the forefront, Oldroyd has crafted a juicy thriller about a life out of reach. It never cuts as deep as it wants to, but it’s damn fun to watch it try.

Review Courtesy of Matt Minton

Feature Image Credit to Neon, Universal Pictures & Focus Features via The Guardian