Grade:  B+

One of the most notorious crimes in modern British history was the 1993 killing of two-year old James Bulger in Liverpool, in which two ten-year olds, Jon Venables and Robert Thompson, lured the child from a shopping area and brutally murdered him. It was a cause celebre that shocked the English as much as the Leopold-Loeb case did Americans in the 1920s—and the world. It (and, apparently, unconfirmed press reports about the two that have circulated since their release in 2001) obviously served as the inspiration for the 2004 novel by Jonathan Trigell on which Mark O’Rowe’s screenplay for “Boy A” is based. (Thompson was referred to as “Child A” in the trial in which the two were convicted.)

But this isn’t a “true crime” picture, though the killing involved—in this case the victim is an older schoolgirl (played by Skye Bennett) instead of a male toddler—is discreetly shown in a flashback toward the close. Rather it’s the story of one of the perpetrators coming of age and being released, under an assumed name, into the general population to try to make a life for himself with the help of a dedicated social worker, who alone knows his true identity. There’s necessarily a sense of foreboding throughout as one waits for the revelatory shoe to drop and the young man’s secret to come out, since there continues to be a public outcry against him and he’s acutely aware of the death of the other culprit, who either committed suicide in prison or was killed there in an act of vigilante justice. Of course, the secret might stay in, too, but even that would hardly reduce the tension.

Andrew Garfield, who might remind you of the young Anthony Perkins (of “Fear Strikes Out,” for example) both physically and in terms of acting style, is touching as Eric Wilson, rechristened as Jack Burridge, who’s shepherded back into society—specifically, Manchester—by his long-time case worker Terry (Peter Mullan), who gets the boy a room and introduces him as a nephew. Jack succeeds in securing a job with a delivery service, and soon is buddy to co-worker Chris Kelly (Shaun Evans) and engaged in a romance with company secretary Michelle (Katie Lyons)—a relationship that becomes so serious it almost persuades him to tell her the truth. Jack even becomes a local hero by saving the life of a young girl trapped in a car after an auto accident, though the incident brings him unwanted publicity in the press. And he’s haunted by Philip’s death. There’s a secondary, but complementary plot thread in the sudden appearance of the paternalistic Terry’s own son, whom he hasn’t seen in years and with whom he tries to reestablish the fatherly bond he’s obviously had, by proxy, with Eric/Jack.

Jack’s modern-day story is periodically punctuated by flashbacks to his youth as Eric, when as a shy, bullied boy from a troubled family he was rescued, after a fashion, by his friendship with the hard-nosed Philip, who encouraged him to play hooky and engage in the increasingly violent run of pranks that culminated in the murder. These sequences are marked by a very fine performance by Alfie Owen as young Eric and a sharp one by Taylor Doherty as Philip.

Thanks largely to Garfield’s heartfelt performance, “Boy A” becomes a powerful, poignant story of the difficulty of forgiveness—not merely the problem that society has in forgiving the perpetrators of heinous acts after they fulfill their prison terms but the struggle that the perpetrators have to forgive themselves. Those who surround Jack after his release are also well played. Lyons is open and genuine as the gregarious Michelle (called the “white whale” by co-workers), and Evans equally so as Chris. And Mullan makes a concerned but affable counselor, although the weakest part of the film is that involving Terry’s relationship with his estranged son Zeb (James Young), which adds a schematic element to the mix that seems out of place (and provides a rather psychologically simplistic explanation for the bleak denouement)–though Young is actually quite fine in the role.

“Boy A” represents a decided shift for O’Rowe and director John Crowley, whose first picture together, the rough-hewn ensemble comedy “InterMission” (2003), was dark but hardly tormented. But it demonstrates their range (and their ability to overcome the dreaded sophomore jinx). With strong HD camerawork by Rob Hardy that takes full advantage of the urban settings, smooth editing from present to past and back again by Lucia Zucchetti, and an unobtrusive but supportive score by Paddy Cunneen, their film does a remarkable job of humanizing a character whom many viewers would be initially inclined to dismiss as a monster. Working dramatically, it’s actually more effective in raising the issue of juvenile wrongdoing and rehabilitation than an overtly didactic presentation of the matter would be. And emotionally it’s searing from beginning to end.