Nancy Vandergroot (Nicole Kidman), the dewy-eyed protagonist of Mimi Cave’s sophomore feature Holland, has a tendency to somersault to conclusions. At the start of this stylish but plodding film, which premiered at SXSW ahead of its March 27 release on Prime Video, the suburban mother loses a pearl earring. Her husband Fred (a chilling Matthew Macfadyen) suggests she check her junk drawer or the jars housing her craft supplies. Nancy, convinced of her own theories, accuses her son’s tutor, Candy (Rachel Sennott), of theft and promptly fires the befuddled high-school student. 

This is a clever introduction to Nancy because later, when she conscripts her friend Dave (Gael García Bernal) to help her investigate whether or not Fred is having an affair, you can’t help but wonder if Nancy might be jumping to conclusions again. Of course anyone familiar with Cave, whose directorial debut Fresh established her as a filmmaker to watch, will know that Fred, the town’s ophthalmologist, is certainly hiding a secret. The real question is what kind. 

Working from a screenplay by Andrew Sodroski, Cave constructs a visually compelling answer to this question. Holland boasts striking advancements in the director’s style and committed performances from Kidman, Macfadyen and Bernal, but these qualities can’t quite save a narrative fundamentally confused about its purpose. Sodroski’s story hinges on a single, shocking twist that, once revealed (more than two-thirds of the way into the film), hampers instead of helps the third act. It squanders the deftly calibrated anxious suspense, turning Holland into a study of suburban paranoia and domestic isolation that slackens over time.

Before Nancy became suspicious of her husband, she lived contentedly as a home economics teacher and devoted wife in their small town. It’s sometime in the early aughts and Cave opens Holland with a charmed testimonial about the lakefront Michigan locale. Nancy, through voiceover, describes a harmonious existence characterized by her loving family, their stately white home and the annual tulip festival. Cave juxtaposes this supposed serenity with a technicolor aesthetic that establishes an uneasy surrealism. There’s a dreamy quality to each scene, which destabilizes confidence in what’s real. 

Below the pristine surface of Nancy’s life, secrets fester. She suspects Fred’s infidelity after a series of small discoveries, and confides in Dave, a shop teacher at the high school where she works. He harbors a faint crush on her and, in an irrational and lovelorn frenzy, agrees to help her snoop.

The early parts of their adventure possess the feverish quality of new and illicit experiences. It also awakens Nancy from a life she likens to carbon monoxide poisoning — slow and comforting in its kill. This is not the first time Kidman has played a woman rebelling against the gilded confines of her existence, so the actress delivers a reliably fine performance. She vacillates frantically between Nancy’s public performance of innocence and a more subdued desire for risk, giving the character an enticing and unpredictable edge. 

As Nancy and Dave continue to gather evidence, Nancy’s anxieties balloon. She has nightmares about her son Harry (Jude Hill) in danger and imagines herself as a stilted figurine in the intricate diorama her husband has been working on in the garage. She also starts sleeping with Dave and is plagued by complicated feelings around this affair.

The real star of Holland is Cave’s style, which builds a disturbing portrait of suburban unease. Partnering with Fresh cinematographer Pawel Pogorzelski again, the director renders that state as a fever dream defined by claustrophobic shots, frenetic crosscuts and dizzying tilts and pans. Composer Alex Somers (Nickel Boys) adds to this tension by punctuating the ethereal foundation of his score with foreboding elements. All of these choices root us in Nancy’s unsettled psyche, upending earlier assumptions about her personality. 

Unfortunately, Cave’s uncanny portrayal of Nancy’s emotional and physical world struggles against the confusion of a scattered story. Bernal gives a strong turn as Dave, especially as the teacher’s determination to protect Nancy mutates into an excited obsession. There’s evidence early on that this character has moved to Holland for a fresh start, but the film never returns to that plot point. A similar fate befalls a thread that touches on the xenophobia suppurating right beneath the town’s genteel exterior and the significance of the tulip festival.

Too many of these instances weigh on Holland as it plods along, somewhat unsteadily, under the weight of abandoned storylines. The big reveal alleviates some of the pressure, but the shock of it comes a little too late, and what proceeds to unfold in the third act feels like a film disappointedly letting out almost all its air.