Thoroughbreds

This compelling indie drama's two lead performances -- with a memorable turn by the late Yelchin -- are outstanding enough to help viewers forgive the film's flaws. If Thoroughbreds is any indication. playwright-turned-feature director Cory Finley, like Martin McDonagh, seems fascinated with violence and morality and the various ways people can hurt one another. The setting of manicured lawns and expansive brick mansions (one which boasts not only marble walls and columns but also a tanning bed) is ideal for a drama about two young women with a whole lot of issues. Finley doesn't judge the girls (he humanizes each of them), but he also doesn't let them off the hook. As Amanda observes to Lily, there's nothing really overtly evil about her stepfather; he's just an "a--hole" she wishes were out of her life. He's a bro-ish jerk who wants to send Lily to the boarding school equivalent of rehab. Sparks, it should be noted, is scarily good as the sort of man who spends more time working on his body than really speaking to his wife or stepdaughter.

Despite the movie's dark proceedings, there's a heavy dose of humor here, mostly courtesy of Yelchin, in what is his final posthumous screen role. As a 25-year-old petty drug dealer who has dreams of one day owning the kinds of homes his young customers live in, Yelchin's Tim has some of the film's more memorable lines. The scene in which Tim discovers that Amanda and Lily are blackmailing him to kill a man just because he's got a conviction on the books and peddles marijuana and club drugs to eager rich teens is notable for how devastated and defeated Yelchin looks. He, like any adult viewer, knows they're right -- pretty, white, rich girls get second chances that he'll never be afforded. The movie's final act isn't quite as riveting as the brilliant setup, but this is a thought-provoking and engrossing crime drama.