Leland in this case is Leland P. Fitzgerald. As played with a certain beyond-his-years solemness by Ryan Gosling, Leland is a high school loner with a nondescript divorced mother (Lena Olin) and a globe-trotting absentee father (Kevin Spacey), who, as a famed novelist, seems as equally proud of being considered a bastard as he is of being considered a genius. Though from a privileged family that is somewhat less than perfect, Leland seems to be a really nice sixteen-year-old. But, as THE UNITED STATES OF LELAND eventually gets around to making clear, it seems that Leland, despite having a gentle and quiet soul, has violently and inexplicably murdered a mentally impaired teenage boy, who also happened to be the younger brother of the girl Leland had been seeing. The question -- as Leland redundantly points out -- is "why?" The answer which seems apparent as the story ultimately unfolds is that the hapless and despondent Leland sees himself in the young autistic boy and the act is a form of suicide. He assumes that Ryan feels the same emptiness, isolation and worthlessness and therefore would be better off dead, but the one Leland really wanted to see die was Leland. It doesn't take a Freud to piece this together, though the film never quite gets around to finding this conclusion as writer-director Matthew Ryan Hoge is too busy dissecting the concept to the American family and chopping the institution into jagged, disconnected little pieces.
Despite a title that promises unity and a storyline that seems to be seeking honesty, understanding and forgiveness, LELAND -- as is the way of most modern drama seeking "truth" -- gives way to predictable cynicism and a frustrating lack of insight. Unity is the last thing the film seeks, instead giving us glimpses of people and families in various states of disintegration. Most specifically, the Pollards, the family of the young boy that Leland murders. The film introduces the Pollard family piecemeal, taking its time to establish that the various characters are even related at all. There is a suggestion that they are a typical upper-middle-class suburban family, but by the end the feeling is that they are little more than related strangers living in the same house. Rather that having a death in the family bring them together, it only seems to weaken their tenuous bonds further. I suppose that this is meant to parallel the lack of closeness in Leland's family, but the result only creates an emotional vacuum. The film's message, if indeed it has one, is that family is an illusion -- at least in contemporary America.
But the story's chief aim is get viewers to pity poor Leland -- and thanks to Gosling's lowkey performance the character is certainly ingratiating enough. But the film tries to convince us that the real victim here is not the kid he killed, but Leland himself, that Leland is so very, very special that his facing judgement for his crime is somehow unjust. To this end, the film dishonestly downplays not just the crime, but the true victim; granting young Ryan Pollard (Michael Welch) little screen time to either be recognized as a character or to garner viewer sympathy. Perhaps the intent was to show how life has marginalized Ryan because he is autisitic (that's how Leland sees him), but in all likelihood, the filmmakers just didn't want Ryan competing with Leland for sympathy, because Leland would surely lose. But trivializing the younger boy's importance in the story backfires; by refusing to create anything more than vague parallels between the boys, the film denies the only logic that would give it any depth. THE UNITED STATES OF LELAND is a well acted and superficially well directed, but like Leland P. Fitzgerald, it is strangely unemotional, cold and empty.
Despite a title that promises unity and a storyline that seems to be seeking honesty, understanding and forgiveness, LELAND -- as is the way of most modern drama seeking "truth" -- gives way to predictable cynicism and a frustrating lack of insight. Unity is the last thing the film seeks, instead giving us glimpses of people and families in various states of disintegration. Most specifically, the Pollards, the family of the young boy that Leland murders. The film introduces the Pollard family piecemeal, taking its time to establish that the various characters are even related at all. There is a suggestion that they are a typical upper-middle-class suburban family, but by the end the feeling is that they are little more than related strangers living in the same house. Rather that having a death in the family bring them together, it only seems to weaken their tenuous bonds further. I suppose that this is meant to parallel the lack of closeness in Leland's family, but the result only creates an emotional vacuum. The film's message, if indeed it has one, is that family is an illusion -- at least in contemporary America.
But the story's chief aim is get viewers to pity poor Leland -- and thanks to Gosling's lowkey performance the character is certainly ingratiating enough. But the film tries to convince us that the real victim here is not the kid he killed, but Leland himself, that Leland is so very, very special that his facing judgement for his crime is somehow unjust. To this end, the film dishonestly downplays not just the crime, but the true victim; granting young Ryan Pollard (Michael Welch) little screen time to either be recognized as a character or to garner viewer sympathy. Perhaps the intent was to show how life has marginalized Ryan because he is autisitic (that's how Leland sees him), but in all likelihood, the filmmakers just didn't want Ryan competing with Leland for sympathy, because Leland would surely lose. But trivializing the younger boy's importance in the story backfires; by refusing to create anything more than vague parallels between the boys, the film denies the only logic that would give it any depth. THE UNITED STATES OF LELAND is a well acted and superficially well directed, but like Leland P. Fitzgerald, it is strangely unemotional, cold and empty.