Grade: B

Verdict: A lovely character study about the love-hate dynamics of a sibling relationship.

Details: Starring Laura Linney, Mark Ruffalo. Rated R for profanity, some drug use and a scene of sexuality. One hour, 49 minutes.

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Review: When single mother Sammy (Laura Linney) meets her kid brother Terry (Mark Ruffalo) for lunch, she radiates delight. They haven't seen each other for years, but their bond is deep: As children, they had to lean on each other after losing their parents in a car crash. But as writer-director Kenneth Lonergan shows in his absorbing character study, “You Can Count on Me,” being family isn't always easy. It takes love, forgiveness and faith in other people, no matter how crazy they drive you.

In this single restaurant scene, Linney and Ruffalo sketch in a lifetime of petty grievances and old patterns. In a few seconds, their cozy reunion goes sour as the two volly recriminations and yank open old wounds. She's an organizer. He's aimless. But when Sammy sighs, “No one knows what to do with you,” you already sense that her rigid, departmental way of looking at life may be just as suspect as Terry's habit of drifting through the world.

Set in smalltown upstate New York, “You Can Count On Me” is less about plot than it is about small incidents and moments of connection. You start to see that Sammy and Terry, at first seemingly so unalike, share more than just genetics. They're circus-mirror reflections of each other; she's reckless when you least expect it, just as he shows surprising ability to be a nurturer, even though he can't seem to take care of himself.

Sammy's son Rudy (Rory Culkin) brings out this generous side of Terry, who becomes a sort of surrogate dad for a while. Rudy's real dad is nowhere in sight, and Sammy doesn't like to talk about him. A passing a mention that she had a wild side in her younger years bears fruit when she starts a heated affair with exactly the wrong guy.

From the start of “You Can Count on Me,” you feel that what you're seeing is a fragment, a slice of life that has a definite beginning and end. Sammy and Terry may come back together, but they're too different to orbit each other so closely for very long. This is a little movie concealing surprisingly big emotions. Its power comes from what happens between the lines. The title phrase, for instance, is never said aloud. But you'll know exactly what it means, what it represents by the end.

Both Linney and Ruffalo, delivering polar opposite performances, are remarkable in different ways. The strong supporting cast includes Matthew Broderick, hilarious as the officious new manager of the bank where Sammy works, and Jon Tenney, generating hunk-next-door decency as Sammy's sounding board and occasional bedmate.

The weak points of “Count” are a few miscalculations by first-time director Lonergan. Though his ear for dialogue and sense of nuance are first-rate, his directing can be a little too basic, his framing rudimentary. He makes an awkward acting cameo as Sammy's minister. More distractingly, he pushes Bach's “St. Matthew Passion” a little too insistently on the soundtrack. It's a surprisingly loud blunder in such a wisely quiet movie.

— Steve Murray, Cox News Service