Laced

Writer-director Kyle Butenhoff has designs on statement cinema with Laced. In his first feature, the director has attempted a tense and seedy domestic dramatic thriller, one baked with layers of symbolism and societal commentary. And while the filmmaker has conceived the foundation well enough, he struggles to inject genuine depth into the characters. As a result, this is a movie with grand plans but inelegance in the way of execution.

Laced follows the central character of Molly (Dana Mackin), a tormented young woman whose relationship with her husband, Charlie (Butenhoff), is quietly unraveling. One night, amidst a dreadful winter storm, Molly decides to act out her anger by killing him. But when her vengeful plot goes awry and unexpected actors enter the situation, Molly must find a way to navigate the ensuing chaos.

The director does a solid job erecting the story’s foundational pillars. The characters are all cleverly calibrated archetypes that apply particular pressures upon Molly and the situation she has created. Even more, the actors all do a respectable job portraying these individuals in a way that feels natural.

“…amidst a dreadful winter storm, Molly decides to act out her anger by killing him.”

And yet, there is an unshakeable sense of convenience about the interactions between Molly and the others. Their decisions are odd, almost irrational, and strangely stiff. It is as though they are not making regular human decisions but are compelled to act in specific ways solely to bring about specific scenarios. Throughout Laced, the characters oscillate between bouts of yelling and making demands of one another. This is no better exemplified than in Molly herself, whose actions fluctuate wildly and frequently contradict. Despite their strong conception, everyone is disappointingly one-dimensional.

It was a smart idea on behalf of Butenhoff to isolate the proceedings to a single space — the secluded house in which Molly and Charlie live. This allows the acting to take on a theatrical quality. However, even the physical space is underutilized. The audience is never given an ample sense of continuity or familiarity with the abode. This makes distinct rooms, and thus, the whole house feel disconnected.

All of these issues result in Laced being incoherent as both a narrative and a character play. This is exacerbated when the plot begins offering politically charged themes that aren’t fully integrated into the story. These would tread a tantalizing line between incisive and provocative if adequately utilized. Instead, the film too often veers between shallow and preachy.

Thus, while many core elements are well-formulated, the filmmaker cannot build anything substantial with them. The intriguing moments are too few and fleeting. What Laced lacks is a singular focus — a point of contention for the character to vie for that naturally draws in the audience and builds suspense. Instead, it is a work of unfocused characters and extraneous shock moments. This is a shame, as Butenho has the ideas and the talent. But for its part, this is a dry, frustrating viewing.