"Blue Car" is the story of Meg (Agnes Bruckner, "Murder by Numbers"), the archetypal adolescent isolated from her mother and younger sister after her father deserted their family. Meg finds comfort in her poetry, fueled by the urgings of her high school English teacher Mr. Auster (David Straithairn, Dolores Claiborne") who comes to serve as a father figure incarnate. Meg struggles between unending dilemmas - the burden of responsibility piled on by her overworked mother, her younger sister's heartbreaking self-mutilation and psychotic disillusionment, and bouts with shoplifting. Her entire focus is on finding a way to get to the Florida finals of a poetry contest, where Mr. Auster will be attending as a judge. The action culminates somewhat predictably when Mr. Auster oversteps the boundaries of the teacher-student relationship and, in turn, reveals his deepest and most debilitating secrets to Meg. He is metaphorically unmasked and the story evolves into one of human weakness, in all its brutal reality. Throughout the somewhat melodramatic film, Meg maintains a beautiful and mature stoicism that slowly begins to crumble beneath the crippling weight of loss after loss.

Beneath these heavy currents of plot flows solemn and moving honesty rarely achieved in directorial debuts. First-time writer and feature director Karen Moncrieff invokes a moving gravity due in large part to her talented actors and sensitive direction. Moncrieff's strength lies not in daring shots or dazzling cinematography, but in her ability to utilize realistic camerawork to her own dramatic ends.

The simplistic look of the film forces the audience to concentrate on what is human, real and poignant, not the artistic prowess of the director. This is a truth that Faulkner once identified and to which Moncrieff unknowingly pays homage; that art is a representation of those most simplistic human universal truths: "love and honor and pity and pride and compassion and sacrifice." This is achieved bluntly and without pretension, because sometimes the most affecting art is grounded heavily in real life.

Bruckner epitomizes this success - her pained looks and natural demeanor in addition to Moncrieff's scripted dialogue are real and captivating and, in essence, carry the entire film. She manages to capture the emotions of what it is to be human and to feel loss, confusion and disappointment. In contrast to what might be deemed a predictable story, Bruckner, along with Regan Arnold as her heartbreaking younger sister, infuses the film with emotion and intensity. Straithairn plays Mr. Auster's piteous role with poetry and grace- we do not despise him and yet our idolization of him wholly dissipates by the film's end, leaving us lost but not alone.

"Blue Car" presents a variety of issues and emotions, and with such strong acting on display, these efforts do not go to waste. In a film that describes poetry as an outlet to "dig deeper ... and hit the nerve," "Blue Car" gracefully achieves just that.