NR | 1h 59m | Drama | 2025
While not a faith-based film, “Eric LaRue” examines how two different faith communities deal with a traumatic event. By comparing and contrasting them, it shows how each one comes up short. An Evangelical congregation illustrates the currently popular term “spiritual bypassing,” that is, the use of superficial, talking-the-talk faith to avoid confronting difficult truths. The other, a Presbyterian congregation, presents an example of a well-meaning but ineffectual pastor.
“Eric LaRue” is mostly about the reaction to those sets of circumstances by the mother of the titular character. Janice LaRue’s boy Eric (Judy Greer and Nation Sage Henrikson) shot and killed three bullies at his high school.
Based on Chicago playwright Brett Neveu’s 2002 play of the same name, this quietly powerful film version is the feature directing debut of actor Michael Shannon.

Shannon tells a mean story. While fairly depressing given the subject matter, the film features top-shelf acting and is highly thought-provoking. It’s a shame, however, that the above-mentioned outcomes—zealous but skin-deep religion versus an incompetent priest—are the only two options presented. More on that later.
The Protagonist: Janice
Caustic and withdrawn, Janice is a raw lump of unresponsiveness; her nerves completely shot; her soul soaked in constant melancholy. After an annoying customer in the firearms department of the big-box store she works at triggers a screaming outburst, Janice is given the boot.
School shooter Eric is now incarcerated at a prison that his mom has yet to visit. As she attempts to move through her days, Janice is besieged by a local community of mostly well-meaning people who metaphorically drum their fingers impatiently on the table in the hopes she’ll soon move past the horror and guilt, so they can get back to the business of feeling comfortable. But Janice won’t be badgered into doing a rush-job on her grief-processing.
Janice’s Husband
Meanwhile, Janice’s husband Ron (Alexander Skarsgard, almost unrecognizable in beta-male mode), is slowly succumbing to the siren call of his unctuously fervent and inappropriately hug-happy HR office manager Lisa (Alison Pill). She coaxes him to jump ship to an evangelical church, run by cult-of-personality pastor Bill Verne (Tracy Letts).Pastor Verne fills fragile Ron with promises of a Jesus who will wash away Ron’s pain completely and forevermore. As mentioned, Janice—not nearly as desperately in need of a life preserver as her spouse—is highly skeptical of Ron’s constant and facile (if passionately zealous) parroting of Bill’s banal balms and biblical bromides. One wonders what her attraction to Ron was in the first place. While she observes with mild disgust Ron’s ability to find solace in platitudes, she’s envious of his ability to get a good night’s sleep.
‘Eric LaRue’
Standing on the shoulders of playwright Neveu, director Shannon appears to share the same perspective; that very little genuine soul-assistance and healing exists for independent thinkers caught in the crosshairs of deep tragedy. Spiritual communities across the board obviously beg to differ.The film’s intention to be thought-provoking by advocating for Janice’s stance works. It’s not atheist, it’s not agnostic—it just vehemently eschews the ill-used, glib, painless aspects of religion that facilitates avoidance of gazing into the abyss.
The Takeaway
Greer, normally a Hollywood A-list comedienne, reveals with this performance that she can look into the tragedy abyss with the best of them. Her face registers an astounding range of emotion.I don’t think it’s a spoiler to say that the movie’s most powerful scene is at the end. Janice, immediately after visiting her son in prison, pulls the car to the shoulder, abandons the vehicle, drops her sweater in the middle of the country road, and walks into the distance to the strains of Bob Dylan’s “Positively 4th Street,” performed by Scott Lucas & the Married Men. Janice has outgrown and shed her skin, and found freedom. It’s a beautiful credit roll.
“Eric LaRue” provides hope for recovery from grief. The film demonstrates that “time heals all wounds.” Yet, in the absence of powerful faith, highly-skilled facilitators, or both, it may have to happen later than sooner. “Eric LaRue” is about later. “I Am Living Proof” and “The Work” are about sooner.
