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When I was 14, we didn’t have cell phones. We didn’t have the Internet, either. Heck, we didn’t even have a remote for our TV. But after seeing Trust, I’ve learned to be thankful for my technologically inferior childhood.
Annie Cameron (Liana Liberato) is a typical 14-year-old, struggling to fit in with the popular girls in school—even if it means acting more grown-up than she really is. The middle child in a busy Chicago family, Annie finds herself looking online for friendship—and she finds it in Charlie, a high school junior from California, who offers support and advice about little things like volleyball tryouts.
When Charlie confesses that he’s actually 20, Annie is slightly bothered by his lie—but she’s also happy to have the love and attention of an older, more experienced man. But the relationship soon spirals out of control, creating a situation that changes Annie’s life—and the lives of her parents—forever.
Trust isn’t the kind of movie that you’d expect from director and former Friends star David Schwimmer. It isn’t a laugh-out-loud story about hip 20-somethings in New York. Instead, the former funnyman steps out with an uncomfortable and unrelenting drama that will turn your stomach and make you want to look away.
The cast handles the difficult subject matter surprisingly well. Liberato is remarkable in her demanding and highly emotional role—and Clive Owen does his best to play Annie’s father, skillfully depicting the character’s wildly swinging emotions and increasingly obsessive behavior. Still, it sometimes goes a little too far. The constant hardships that Annie has to endure are excruciating, and not everything seems to ring true.
At times, the film even resorts to an almost Afterschool Special tone, which might make you wonder about the film’s message—and its audience. On one hand, it seems to be designed as a cautionary tale for teenage girls, warning about the dangers of online predators, who lie and scheme to get what they want. Yet this isn’t a movie for pre-teen girls. It’s disturbing and uncomfortable (though, fortunately, not especially graphic), with adult language to top off its R rating.
Perhaps, then, parents are the target audience. But, if that’s the case, the film’s message is still uncertain. Most adults know about the threat of online predators, so it seems unnecessary to introduce the topic or inform audiences about it. Instead, the film could act as a reminder—to tell parents to talk to their children and to make time for them—though, in the end, the solutions just aren’t all that clear.
Schwimmer and his cast do a respectable job of telling the story, but I honestly couldn’t tell you who would want to watch Trust. A story like this one definitely needs to be told, but Trust is a brutal and somewhat misguided drama that gets more and more miserable as the story continues. And, without a strong, recognizable message, it all feels just a little too hopeless.
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