ELECTRICK CHILDREN so special is the manner in which it subverts what you most expect. What an oddity is this little movie from first-time full-length writer/
director Rebecca Thomas (the filmmaker is shown just below). In its details, it seems quite realistic (cultist Mormons would know best about this), but as those details pile up, they begin to form not so much an image of the nasty, know-nothing (except the restrictions of their sect) people we often see in films that depict fundamentalist religions, but rather relatively decent folk doing what they must within their terribly proscribed life and their based-on-very-odd-hearsay beliefs.
Julia Garner) -- who finds herself seemingly pregnant with no father in the picture (no sex having gone on, either) -- who journeys to Las Vegas to find the singer whose tape recording she has heard and has come to feel must have somehow fathered her child. (Weird, yes, but I swear Ms Thomas and Ms Garner make you at least understand where all this is coming from.)
Liam Aiken, above) unknowingly tags along for the ride, forever trying to convince his sister to return home. When the pair connects with a group of teenage skateboarding, would-be musicians and their girlfriends, sparks fly -- but in just about every way you wouldn't expect.
Rory Culkin (above, right, in the back seat) as -- eventually -- the most important of these Las Vegas teens, and then Bill Sage (front seat, behind those shades) as someone who should not be so very easy to find, but fortunately is. We buy this, I think, because of the filmmaker's ability to keep her little parable going. Both actors bring immense charm and even more sense of bizarre discovery to the movie.
Netflix streaming seems such a godsend to us movie-lovers who care about independent, foreign and documentary film. The film has only just appeared on the Netflix facility, so catch it while it's available.