Slow-moving and dreamlike, writer/director Rebecca Miller's debut feature Angela is a stylized drama about childhood that follows the dream logic of a darkly emphatic ten-year-old with a mentally ill mother. Angela's (Miranda Stuart Rhyne) spiritual quest is taken very seriously, entitling her to manifested visions, plenty of silent brooding, and rambling monologues about made-up rituals. Though she gives a great performance, Rhyne is just too much of a regular kid to be convincing as a religious freak. The back story and time period are left ambiguous; instead the scenes flow like traces of memories leaving much implausibility. Though it requires patience to appreciate, the random images (a white pony, a runaway roller skate) and bizarre occurrences (a makeover booth at a carnival, a Barbie thrown from a window) can be pieced together as a sensitive picture of an intense young girl. What's troubling is how Angela's mother, Mae (Anna Thomson), influences her and how Angela, in turn, influences her impressionable little sister, Ellie (Charlotte Blythe). It's interesting to note that the costuming and behavior of Mae suggests a disintegrating Marilyn Monroe, since the director's father, Arthur Miller, was married to the real-life Marilyn Monroe until 1961, a year before her death. The relevance of this family connection is not made clear in the narrative; like so much else in the film, it's left to the viewer's imagination and level of involvement.