I suppose the reason most movies are so instantly forgettable is because, like the popcorn we shovel into our mouths distractedly while watching them, most movies are just bland, uninspiring, and only temporarily filling. They take few risks, break no new ground, and therefore leave us as we were when we entered the theater: hungry for something more substantial and memorable. Well, much admired cinematographer Reed Morano's first turn in the Director's chair, the haunting, visceral and formula shattering "Meadowland," which I caught at the Tribeca Film Festival last weekend, is simply unforgettable and searing. It burns its way into your memory, taking you on an ever-escalating trip through the unraveling of the world of parents unable to get any closure over a missing child who vanishes without a trace or clue, leaving the parents frozen in the time of the disappearance, immobilized yet stumbling through the mundane as they spend their days in a daze of incomplete, inchoate grief.

How do you mourn someone who is not dead but simply unaccounted for? In the hands of a less sensitive and brave director and cast, such a story would, at various times, turn melodramatic or maudlin, but Morano and her superb cast, led by Olivia Wilde, stay with the pace at which life honestly moves when grief is the gnawing feeling you wake up with every day. You live, but your life is lifeless, and every day their son stays missing is a little less a day for hope. Wilde gets progressively gaunt and hollowed with the passage of time, and she delivers a disciplined performance of aching realism, never giving in to the temptation to play Sarah broadly or with hand-wringing sympathy. Sarah's husband Phil, played by Luke Wilson in the equally defining role of his film career, is similarly staggered by his son's disappearance but falls down the rabbit hole of loss by a somewhat different route. While Sarah goes from lithium to lethargy, Phil goes for support from a group that includes John Leguizamo, superbly cast against his usual type, but Phil misunderstands the nature of support and loses a friend as he tries to take a shortcut in the twelve steps to rehabilitation. Wilson's eyes rarely show signs of the life he had before his son went missing; even when he is dealing with a domestic dispute with potentially explosive consequences, he seems bored by the banality of daily life even as he urges Sarah to accept the reality of their loss.

Morano clearly loves the actors with whom she works and gets career-defining performances from most of them, especially her two leads. Her dual role as cinematographer never seems to burden her. In fact, it may help to have the person actually behind the camera stand behind her actors. Her visuals are remarkably, even almost shockingly, bright and clear, from Sarah's yellow hoodie she wears when prowling the crowded city streets looking for her son to the clouds that hover over an otherwise dreary landscape of loss. Morano is a force to be reckoned with, and Meadowland is a film that celebrates her skills for story telling and her knack for getting the most out of her stars. Wilde and Wilson have never been better, but one senses Meadowland is just the beginning of even richer and deeper roles for both of them for a very long time. Meadowland is not without problems. The script tends to wander in the third act as if, like Sarah and Phil as they stumble through the fog of grief, not everyone is sure where things are ultimately headed. And let's be clear: this is not a subject matter that begs to be seen in a multiplex on a feel-good night out. But if film is indeed a window into our true selves, then Meadowland succeeds on every level because Morano, Wilde and Wilson are brave enough to tell a story without artifice and resolution. Much as we know, when we are truly honest with ourselves, that we have to live our lives without a story arc with a clear beginning, middle, and end, Meadowland honors the courage it takes just to keep living, especially when those who were so important that they were the center of those lives, cannot.

Henry David Thoreau wrote of people who lead "lives of quiet desperation." This film is a literal enactment of Thoreau's words.

"Meadowland" tells the harrowing story of parents who have lost a child. In an unremarkable stop at a gas station, Sarah and Phil wait for their son to come out of the bathroom. But he has decided to use the back door and go off exploring. But the child never comes back. The film moves forward to a year after the disappearance with the parents struggling with their grief and anxiety.

The intensity of the emotional anguish registers in every moment of the film, as Sarah and Phil attempt to carry on their lives as an English teacher and a police officer. The film explores the phenomenon of displacement as Sarah becomes overly involved with a student at her elementary school and Phil loses his boundaries when getting the address of the drunken driver for a member of his support group. In their own ways, Sarah and Phil are lost souls.

The film is successful in developing compassion for people who are suffering emotional trauma. The realistic details are astounding, especially with Tim, the soft-spoken brother of Phil, who always seems to be searching for words. One of the best scenes in the film occurs on the apartment rooftop where Tim shares his dope with Sarah and recognizes that she has made an attempt on her life. He cannot find anything to say to comfort her, but the empathy registers on his face and in his body language. This and other scenes tell the poignant story of lives of quiet desperation and the battles that humans are fighting inside that are often unknown to the insensitive outside world.

If your feeling down in the dumps or there's a gloomy cloud hovering over your head then Meadowland is not the film you'll be wanting to watch, actually it's about as far away as what'd you'd want to be watching as you could imagine as one time D.O.P turned feature length director Reed Morano's film is one of the most dour films to come around in quite some time.

The dour nature that imbeds itself into almost every single scene of this sometimes heart rendering bleak tale of grief, loss and heartache may be too much for some to bare but it's also in many ways Morano's greatest achievement, even though it doesn't make for typically entertaining viewing.

Given a meatier role than she's normally afforded, Olivia Wilde does a commendable job as the lost mother of a missing boy Sarah and alongside the well casted if under used Luke Wilson as her equally lost husband Phil the two actors give Meadowland their all and tackle the hard subject matter with aplomb even though we're sadly as an audience never truly aloud into their characters inner sanctum which hurts the films overall emotional gut punches.

Morano, as is the case with most first time directors, unfortunately fails to properly engage the audience into the films overall heart and soul and characters like Giovanni Ribisi's underused Tim and the odd appearance of Juno Temple's seductress like Mackenzie seem like missed opportunities while Sarah's odd feelings towards mentally handicapped school student Adam never really ring true especially towards the films last act and the film is undoubtedly at its strongest when the narrative focus's more intently on the plight of Sarah and Phil as they consider what may've become of their lost son and how they deal with the pain alongside each other.

Sometimes powerful, often frustrating and always from the get go grey cloud gloomy, Meadowland is an impressive first up effort by Morano and features committed turns by the normally misused Olivia Wilde and sometimes auto piloted Luke Wilson that make it a film worthy of your time as long as you're willing to go along with its depressive nature.

3 stale car snacks out of 5