Originally conceived as a play, Thoroughbreds (which is now playing in general release) still feels plenty theatrical. The developments are primarily internal, the action dialogue driven. Writer-director Cory Finley displays a nice use of the wide-screen frame to heighten the drama, exaggerating the emotional distance between characters or using negative space to draw attention to secrets left unspoken. It’s a handsome movie about awful people—the slender narrative revolves around the plotting of a murder, and the character positioned as the film’s voice of reason claims early on that she has no emotions. What makes it interesting is that Finley never spurs disgust toward his characters, but rather a certain fascination that blossoms unexpectedly into sympathy.
Thoroughbreds also marks the final role of the late Anton Yelchin, who delivers the film’s sole expressive performance. He plays Tim, a drug dealer and all-around fuck-up whom the girls attempt to blackmail into murdering the stepfather. Tim may own a gun and boast of his thriving drug operation, but he’s actually more naive than his teenage clientele. In his mid-20s and already an ex-convict, Tim is one misstep away from a long prison sentence; Yelchin makes the character’s desperation seem poignant, reminding me of the men played by the great character actor Elisha Cook Jr. in The Big Sleep and The Killing. Tim changes over the course of the story too, but there’s a neat ambiguity to his transformation—you’re never quite sure whether he acts on his own or out of deference to Lily and Amanda.
