Producers: Jennifer Roth, Scott McGehee and David Siegel   Directors: Scott McGehee and David Siegel   Screenplay: Scott McGehee and David Siegel   Cast: Haley Lu Richardson, Owen Teague, Gilbert Owuor, Kimberly Guerrero, Eugene Brave Rock, Asivak Koostachin and Rob Story   Distributor: Bleecker Street

Grade: B-

This latest film from Scott McGehee and David Siegel (“Suture,” “The Deep End,” “Bee Season,” “What Maisie Knew”) is as understated as its title—which is ironically both its strength and its weakness.  The tale of estranged siblings who reunite, and reconcile, when they return home to confront their anger against their dying father is told with great sensitivity, but in its strenuous effort to resist melodramatic excess it sacrifices some emotional power.  Thankfully, nuanced lead performances help fill the void.

Pensive, downcast Cal (Owen Teague) arrives first at the modest Montana ranch where his father Wade (Rob Story), comatose after a massive stroke and on life support, lies downstairs in his study, tended by Ace (Gilbert Owuor), a gentle Kenyan-born nurse with a knack for smoothing troubled waters.  The only other person in the house is Wade’s long-time housekeeper Valentina (Kimberly Guerrero), who comes by several days a week. 

Cal’s despondent, but also wary because of how he feels about his father. He hasn’t been back to the place in years, and has returned only to handle the family’s financial affairs, which are in a terrible state; before visiting Wade’s bedside, in fact, he goes out to the barn to see a horse, a twenty-five year old stallion named Mr. T whose future he’ll have to consider.  And when he finally does go to the study, he recoils at getting too close to the incapacitated man, despite Ace’s kindly ministrations.

Cal is further distressed by the unexpected arrival of his older half-sister Erin (Haley Lu Richardson), who seethes with contempt toward Wade, but is hostile to Cal as well.  The precise reason behind her abrupt flight seven years earlier, and her anger toward both her father and her half-brother, is revealed gradually as the narrative proceeds, but involves an incident of domestic abuse that was not an isolated event.

Gradually Erin overcomes at least some of her antagonism toward Cal, whom she has long blamed to failing to intervene in their father’s mistreatment of her.  But even as the two visit the site of an abandoned mine that their father had helped conceal from authorities–evidence of his corruption of the land as well as of his family—she likens it to Dante’s circles of hell, the last of which, she notes with pointed reference to how she views Cal, was reserved for those who betrayed those closest to them. 

Erin’s initial hope to leave the ranch as quickly as she can is, however, derailed by Mr. T.  Upset by Cal’s plans for the horse, she decides to drive it back to New York, where she’s made a career for herself as a chef.  That takes her and Cal to Mukki (Eugene Brave Rock), who offers to sell her a used truck and trailer; she agrees to the deal, despite Cal’s misgivings about Mukki’s easygoing assurances about the vehicle’s engine.  And when they prove justified, they turn to Valentina’s son Joey (Asivak Koostachin), who suggests an alternative.

One might characterize the use of the horse as a symbol of both the past that has haunted the siblings and the possibility of finally breaking from it as a device reminiscent of fifties theatre (think of Tennessee Williams’ glass animals).  One can also doubt the decision to set the final cathartic moments between Erin and Cal during a thunderstorm that cuts off electricity, challenging each of them to make decisions about how far they’ll go to keep Wade’s heart beating; if played less expertly than it is by this cast, it would descend into the melodramatics McGehee and Siegel, with their quiet, solemn approach, seconded by Isaac Hagy’s measured editing, have gone to such pains to avoid.

Richardson and Teague, however, manage to skirt the danger with their restrained, controlled performances even as the material grows more obvious.  They’re ably supported by Owuor, Guerrero, Koostachin and Brave Rock, who avoid overplaying even though their characters as written rather bluntly imply that native Americans and Africans possess some special wisdom (or in Mukki’s case, cleverness) that eludes the white folks.

One might expect that a film set in Big Sky country would exhibit picture-postcard visuals, but though cinematographer Giles Nuttgens doesn’t downplay the impressive locales, neither does he beautify them.  Kelly McGehee’s production design is similarly straightforward, and Kevin Morby’s score is evocative of place but not crudely so.

So the sensitivity McGehee and Siegel have demonstrated in their previous body of work is continued here despite some melodramatic plot turns, and their ability to draw subtle performances from their ensemble allows “Montana Story” to overcome some potentially damaging shortcomings to emerge as an affecting tale of family discord and uneasy forgiveness.