Think of Rachel Getting Married, or this year’s Blue Valentine, both of which are films that, when it came to the Academy Awards, were defined by a single performance (Anne Hathaway for the former, Michelle Williams for the latter), while the rest of the production, cast and crew were snubbed. However, that this is the only recognition granted to Rabbit Hole is puzzling, as it is a superbly nuanced, finely crafted drama. Based on the Pulitzer Prize-winning play by David Lindsay-Abaire, Rabbit Hole centres on a couple, Becca and Howie (Kidman, alongside Aaron Eckhart), who are haunted by the loss of their young son. Taking place months after the fact, it looks at the permanence of trauma, the ghosts that colour seemingly everyday life, and how the two adopt very different approaches to dealing with their grief. Becca shuts herself away from her social circle, making up alibis to avoid the neighbours, while Howie spends his days working, and his spare time playing squash with colleagues. They share an existence that, on the surface, may seem dull, but is fundamentally broken. It is also not, despite a twinkly score and gentle pacing, without its sharp, darkly humorous edges, best seen in Becca and Howie’s regular visits to a local support group for bereaved parents. When forced to listen to the tragic stories of ‘professional wallowers’, Becca is irritable, interrupting discussion in favour of her own, insensitive putdowns. Kidman revels in this complex role, recalling her performance in Noah Baumbach’s Margot At The Wedding in how she makes Becca remarkably detestable, yet never grotesque. In comparison, Howie is less antagonistic, but Eckhart remains one of the unsung stars of modern Hollywood, imbuing the character with a deep sadness behind his enforced positivity. Indeed, the ways the two deal with their grief are directly opposed, yet are nevertheless similarly pragmatic. Becca emotionally shuts down, almost to the point of denial, while clearing out belongings and suggesting they move house. Howie, on the other hand, cherishes home videos of their son, while attending the support group and going on as normal. They rarely meet in the middle, yet they must, in order to move on together. However, that isn’t to say that Rabbit Hole offers a cure for grief, and the supporting cast, featuring a fellow parent (Sandra Oh), a young boy who was involved in their son’s death (Miles Teller) and Becca’s mother (the always brilliant Dianne Wiest), are only bystanders, offering moments of comfort or relief in the couple’s ongoing negotiation with memory. Perhaps it is this ambiguity, its resistance to commit to either uplifting or tragic conclusions, that prevents Rabbit Hole from being heralded by awards committees. Maybe America is afraid of its own complexity, and is more interested in seeing narratives of triumph and fantasy, or drama on a more twisted, horrific scale. It is fitting that Rabbit Hole and Blue Valentine have been boiled down to a single Best Actress nominee each, for they are both similarly compelling, honest and beautiful, and what one does for love, the other does for loss. Follow Den Of Geek on Twitter right here.