For all the catharsis a movie can provide, no genre is as effective as the revenge tale. It's no coincidence a film like Taken proved massively popular during a period of economic woe and general distrust. Feels great to make the bastards pay, right? Godspeed is ultimately about revenge, but not in the typical Death Wish way we've seen before. And not with the satisfying punch it could possess. But director Robert Saitzyk delivers just enough depth to keep you hanging in for that final act, and its potential wallop.

Godspeed begins as a curious character study centering on preacher Charlie Shepard (Joseph McKelheer), the head of a small, self-named congregation in rural Alaska, where he purports to be a faith healer. He's sturdy, good-looking, and approachable, making it tough to tell if he's the real deal. When he invites an elderly emphysema sufferer to hold him and partake in his gift, Charlie's talents are dramatic, yet dubious. To make matters more mysterious, Charlie and his wife Becca (Jessie Ward) have a shady past and a shaky future, with a small son in tow.

While Charlie's out sleeping around -- under the Aurora Borealis, poetic but a bit much -- his family is violently taken from him for reasons unknown. Without much fanfare, Saitzyk, working from a script written with co-star Cory Knauf, then takes us six months into the future; Shepard has now grown a Brian Wilson beard and slipped into isolation. Predictably, his past is coming for him; unpredictably, it's in the form of a teenage girl.

Saitzyk jumps through hoops to give Godspeed an indie feel, and the effort has the right textures, is rooted in the right place. But the exercise sometimes results in too much mood and not enough narrative progress. Saitzyk and Knauf's screenplay relies too often on monologues about faith and fate, with varying success depending on the actor doing the talking. McKelheer has solid chops, a solid fellow willing to show weakness; Knauf, as the young nemesis with his own view of holiness, is far less skilled, sounding stagy and over-earnest with lines not dynamic enough to save his performance.

Saitzyk does understand quiet pacing and the slow burn, especially appropriate for a drama set in the solitude of Alaska. And his slight tonal changes are appreciated, keeping a modest air of mystery as Godspeed evolves. It's no big surprise that all the slow roads in Godspeedlead to a classically styled showdown, similar in urgency to the conflict in One False Move. The payoff is contrived here, but well executed.

The conclusion's unexpected brutality is one of the film's most powerful elements. That weight comes from the simple taste for blood, that thirst for vengeance that surfaces when unbridled violence seems like rightful retribution. All the theological themes and delicate cinematography in the world can't alter the fact that watching someone get theirs simply makes us feel better.