Waves is a film in two parts, at once as connected and severed as a man following a trip to the guillotine. In a sense, it’s almost a story and sequel in one package. One whose first and second parts have alternating sets of lead characters, battling tonality, and wildly diverse cinematography, though its hip-hop-saturated musical through-line binds its saga together as does the overbearing sense of cause and effect that ripples throughout the Williams family’s lives. Waves moving outwards and growing in intensity, born of the smallest pebble dropped in the pond, grow to towering surf, stretched over devastating undertow.

In Waves, writer-director Trey Edward Shults directs the wake to touch just about every character in some way or another. At the epicenter of it all is Tyler Williams (Kelvin Harrison Jr.), a high-school senior on the wrestling team. Viewers aren’t meant to overlook the fact that Shults’ begins the movie in lackadaisical fashion, in the front seat of Tyler’s car, the camera spinning between Tyler and girlfriend Alexis (Alexa Demie). Both blissfully ignorant of the turning tides.

A harrowing sports injury and pregnancy scare drive Tyler closer and closer to the brink. Feeling pressured by his status as a young black man (despite his family’s big, beautiful house and all the inherent privileges that comes with wealth), Tyler withdraws into himself, a castle unto himself. One slightly misguided decision after another edges him closer to the ledge. The most minute decision Tyler makes has house of card consequences. In turn, Waves transforms into a full-blown, breathe-into-a-brown-paper-bag panic attack, the filmmaking replicating and visually communicating the inner turmoil of its character in intense, breathtaking manner.

Nothing is bound by tradition in the film from the director behind Krisha and It Come at Night. Waves defies traditional three-act structure, accelerating from the very first minute to a show-stopping moment just over half way into the feature and then somewhat starting fresh. Up to that pivotal moment, Shults’ tale is on a bullet train to uh-oh-ville, with every single interaction, spoken word, quick glance, or subtle shot rich with meaning that lingers just below the surface. In constructing a film that feels unmistakably like half-social-thriller-half-dreamy-coming-of-age-story, Shults’ shoots audiences a gut punch before offering them a warm hug on their way out the door, making for one of the most difficult and sublimely realized films of 2019.

[READ MORE: Our review of ‘Krisha‘ from writer-director Trey Edward Shults]

Not even the smallest detail is small enough to overlook in the suburban nightmare that Shults conjures up. And much like real life, the smallest choices do have monumental effects. One wrong move on the wrestling mat. One ill-informed jump to ALL CAPS in a text message. One failure to lock an office door. All have severe, life-altering consequences which Shults explores in gory detail, allowing the tension to creep up and lap at the audiences’ feet before giving those waves tsunami stature. Drowning us in wide-eyed horror as things go from troubled to bad to worse to, well, just really, really, really bad.

Waves works in large part because of how richly drawn and well acted each of the characters are. Harrison Jr., who was also excellent in this year’s Luce, is simply outstanding as Tyler; explosive in moments, quietly contemplative in others, creating a complex and lived-in character with many shades. Sterling K. Brown as Tyler’s well-meaning but overbearing father Ronald casts a long shadow over the film, gifting us an utmost complicated father-son relationship developed between the two alphas doomed to butt heads. “You don’t have the luxury of being average,” Ronald barks at an increasingly detached Tyler, who cannot quite seem to grasp the precarious status his family has attained as upper-middle class brown folk. The People v. O. J. Simpson actor breathes comfortably into the challenging and not always good-look territory the role takes him, coming out on top with a soulful portrait of a father who may just be his own worst enemy.

Newcomer Taylor Russell is equally note-worthy as Emily Williams, the kid sister whose story becomes the main focus in the back-half of the film. On a side note, it’s worth mentioning how stunned I was to learn that the actress (who very comfortably plays 16) is actually 25 years old. Unfortunately, she’ll be missing out on that coveted Best Youth Performance nod this year and for all years forward, though her work is strong enough to warrant consideration in the big girls category as well.

Shults’ characters don’t fall easily into black and white and as the film shifts from pulse-pounding social thriller to meditation on forgiveness, Waves explores the dichotomy of human suffering; how blame and hate become mitigating factors in how we engage with the larger world and within our existing social structures. The ripples of one person’s actions undulate through a whole network, people irrevocably touched by a butterfly effect that assumes its own identity.

Even the aspect ratio takes on a life of its own and begins to tell this story in its own way. Oscillating between no less than five different screen shapes, Shults’ uses changing filmmaking grammar to further lock viewers in the subjective experience of Waves and its characters. As pressures mount, the frame squishes in and in and in until finally everything in jailed in an academy ratio box, the black nothingness of the outer screen taking up just as much space as the picture within.

Shults often uses expressionist filmmaking techniques to elicit his intended emotional and visceral reactions, using color to inform mood, and increasingly in-your-face cinematography to draw attention to a world crumbling in upon itself. So too does the musical soundscape take on character and its head-bopping soundtrack that cuts from Kendrick Lamar to Animal Collective to Kanye West only to be interrupted by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross’ deeply stressful score, only serves to amplify that subjective all-encompassing experience. If some films wash over you, Waves crashes over you, grabs you in the undertow and drags you out to sea.

Though the film loses a lot of its pure nail-biting steam shifting down into its second more contemplative half, Waves remains a deeply thoughtful and thought-provoking film that dares to not only ask important questions about ego and the familial responsibility in the aftermath of trauma but then tries to answer those questions as best it can. As a social import, Waves is an undeniably important film and one that ought be sought out by all, touching on race, toxic masculinity, forgiveness, and trauma in both emotionally meaningful and artistic manner, with Shults holding together his challenging narrative with eye-popping technical flourishes and astounding performances.

CONCLUSION: Trey Edward Shults combines a challenging narrative with expressionistic filmmaking techniques to tell a bold and eye-catching story about cause and effect through the lens of an upper-class African-American family. Everything from the performances, music, cinematography, and direction on down is truly note-worthy in one of year’s best films.