GLASSLAND

Glassland f eels l i ke two films that have been superglued together. One of them works very well indeed, and the other is a bit of a mess. The first stars Jack Reynor as John, a Dublin taxi driver whose mother ( Toni Collette) is an alcoholic. I’m not sure I consistently buy the Australian actress’s Irish accent, but her performance is impeccable. After an emergency-room visit — not the first, it’s clear — John cleans out her liquor cabinet and she explodes in a fit of detoxifying apoplexy. Later he throws her a party, complete with wine and Tainted Love on the stereo. Sipping her drink, she says she hates the way it tastes but likes the way it makes her feel. He says it’s the opposite for him. Scenes like this ground this feature from Irish writer/director Gerard Barrett in gritty realism. But here comes that other movie I mentioned — one in which John is forced into some shady dealings to pay for an expensive clinic for his mom. It’s a woolly subplot, never wholly explained, and you could be forgiven for leaving the movie thinking 10 minutes had been cut from its climax. But until the plot gets knocked off the rails, Glassland is a powerful portrait of addiction. Glassland opens March 11 in Toronto, and March 15 on demand. ΩΩ ½