Ballistic

by Rachel Willis

A mother’s grief turns into a vengeful obsession in writer/director Chad Faust’s film Ballistic. After Nance Redfield (Lena Headey) learns of her son Jesse’s (Jordan Kronis) death in Afghanistan, she becomes obsessed with the idea that a bullet from the factory where she works was the cause.

Headey is a hell of an actress, and she does her damn finest to sell us on a mother’s grieving rage. Nance’s desire for vengeance unhinges her as she seeks someone to blame.

Unfortunately, despite Headey’s best efforts, she’s working with a character that’s never fully developed. We never fully feel Nance’s love for her son. Our introduction to their relationship is shown to us through a montage and a single video call. It’s not enough to flesh out either character.

It’s also hard to feel any sympathy for Nance despite her loss. Her anger leads her to target anyone she deems in any way responsible for Jesse’s death. It’s a broad metaphor for the ways in which anyone involved in munitions manufacturing is responsible for every death. It’s an idea that would make for an interesting documentary, but it doesn’t make much sense here. It’s too far-reaching and leaves you reflecting more on Nance’s state of mind than any broader commentary.

There are also several choices the character makes that defy logic. It’s hard to believe some of her actions in her quest for revenge. But again, a lot of this disbelief lies in the fact that we don’t really know Nance. If the film had taken more time in allowing us to know her, we would be more invested in following her wherever she leads. As it is, we’re left with a film with a muddy message, one powerful performance, and not much else.