It’s hard to find films these days that seem more than happy to provoke its audience, challenging their sensibilities, and sparking thoughtful conversations about big, complex ideas. Such is the case for Luce, which feels like the kind of smart, dramatic thriller we would have occasionally gotten from studios before tentpoles and previously established IP got all the focus and resources. It’s the third film from Nigerian born American filmmaker, Julius Onah, following his previous efforts, The Girl Is in Trouble, and The Cloverfield Paradox. The film is adapted from a stage play from J. C. Lee, who co-wrote the script with Onah.

The film is about Luce (Kelvin Harrison Jr.), a star pupil admired by his peers and his teachers. He was adopted by a white couple, Amy (Naomi Watts) and Peter (Tim Roth), when he was very young, taking him away from his previous life as a child soldier in Africa. However, he isn’t so loved by everyone, as it might initially seem. One of his teachers, Harriet (Octavia Spencer) begins showing concern when she is spooked by a paper he turned in, along with the presence of illegal fireworks in his locker.

The film establishes pretty early on that while the two may put on a smile when with each other, the suspicious feeling between Luce and Harriet is mutual. The whole film is this push-and-pull between the two characters as it slowly but surely builds and escalates in incredibly thrilling ways. The film always keeps you at a distance, and only a limited amount of information is truly given to you. So, you never really know how much of Harriet’s suspicions are well founded, or if she simply holds some kind of grudge against the seemingly harmless Luce.

It is also a film with a lot on its mind. It covers a wide range of topics from tokenism to the idea of the model minority to privilege to the experiences that vary between African immigrants and African-Americans to how structures both social and political often hold people in marginalized and oppressed communities back in ways that are less obvious, and often hidden in plain sight. I can’t imagine a scenario of a group of people coming out of this film, and not having a serious discussion about the film and the way it explores these all too relevant topics.

Onah handles things very well behind the camera. Working alongside cinematographer, Larkin Seiple, the film’s 35mm look keeps an ongoing sense of intensity by keeping flashy tricks at a minimum and relying mostly on how it lingers on the characters, both up close and from a great distance. This is heightened by a moody and abrasive, if also somewhat repetitive, score from Geoff Barrow and Ben Salisbury, who are known for their work on films like Ex Machina and Annihilation.

The big reason to see this film, however, is the performances. The cast is stacked with industry veterans like Roth, Watts, and Spencer, each of whom are firing on all cylinders here with believable, empathetic, and lived-in performances. Which makes it all the more impressive that a relative newcomer, who has only been in a handful of indies, like Harrison Jr. manages to hold his own against all these powerhouse performers with ease. Even someone like Andrea Bang, who plays a student with close ties to Luce, absolutely knocks it out of the park, despite only having one scene of much substance.

Unfortunately, as wonderful as many elements of Luce are, I’m not sure if it really adds up to all that much. It brings up so many questions and food for thought, but it’s hardly aimed at a specific direction, and the filmmakers often get in the way themselves to make things more complicated than, I think, they needed to be. It also doesn’t help that I was not into the ending very much. The film builds up so well, and it’s so thrilling to see how some of these characters bounce off one another as the stakes keep getting higher. However, the ending is maybe the one understated note in the entire thing, taking a and for me, it simply wasn’t that satisfying. It’s not a bad ending, nor is it without purpose, but I wish the payoff was electric and challenging as the rest of the film.

Despite an underwhelming and frustrating conclusion, I was still very engaged by Luce. It’s a smart and skillfully made film that dives headfirst into some rough, uncomfortable, and touchy subject matter. It keeps you on your toes for practically the entire runtime, not knowing where things would go, or what else might be revealed. The themes being explored might give the impression of something very serious minded, and while it certainly keeps things straight and earnest, I did have a lot of fun with it. It’s a hell of a ride, and it’s one I’d easily recommend, especially for the performances.