Miranda’s Victim often feels like two different movies smushed into one. On the one hand, it tells the story of how Trish finds the courage to speak up against her abuser, who happens to be a person of color. On the other hand, it shows us the legal intricacies that led to the founding of what we now know as Miranda Rights. In better hands, these two stories (one emotional and one technical) could’ve worked well together, and they would’ve spoken to the intersectionality at the heart of this complicated case. But instead of going for nuance, instead of exploring the complex racial and gender politics that inform this case, Director Michelle Danner goes in all sorts of odd directions as if herself confused about what the focus should be. 

Breslin is heartbreaking and powerful as Trish, but she’s only given so much to act with. Despite being based on a real person, her character is reduced to trauma and tears—a caricature of abuse—and nothing more. The movie is at its strongest when it converts into pure courtroom drama by the third act. Suddenly, it’s brisk and intelligent, bolstered by the compelling one-two punches of the judge (a commanding Donald Sutherland) and the two lawyers (Ryan Philippe, a revelation, and Luke Wilson, only slightly better here than in his earlier turn in Legally Blonde). As a story about violation and abuse, there’s surprisingly little compassion to be found, despite the title. But as a legal drama, it’s as informative as it can be. 

The strange scoring. I mean, it doesn’t get more obvious than playing “You Don’t Own Me” before Trish testifies, or “Saturday Night at the Movies” when she goes to the movies on, um, a Saturday night. They also trumpet presidential sounds when the Chief Justice appears and play sweeping melodramatic music when Trish recalls the horrific act. There’s also this cartoonish villain song that plays when Miranda reenacts the kidnapping. It’s almost as if the filmmakers don’t trust that we can take a hint, so then we're told how to feel and when to cry, even though the material is potent enough. It should stand on its own, but instead, it’s spoonfed to us in an almost insulting manner.