The Yellow Handkerchief

A perfect crescendo. During an admittedly slow first half of the film, the audience is drawn in to the actors and the cajun background, its lush greenery and its languid place in Americana.

The actors hold up brilliantly at this pace -- William Hurt is a standout and a more-than-worthwhile Oscar candidate as the sullen, "ghost"-like ex-con and Eddie Redmayne jumps to the fore as a bizarre, overgrown child. The scenery and the pull of post-Katrina New Orleans is powerful, forcing personal choices and sticking in the back of our minds.

Then, when the action turns, and the plot suddenly speeds forward for the latter half of the movie, the viewer has already been drawn so deep inside these rich, pained characters and the twisted swampland that its emotional force, punctuated by minute changes in Hurt's eyes, knowingly elicits empathy and sympathy.

The force of the movie is the slowness, the languid pace that draws the viewer in, and the acting, as good an ensemble as anything that I've viewed this year. It is slow, but slow can be good, good as a cajun conversation.