I confess: I expected Let Me Have My Son to be in the same vein as some inspirational “Lifetime Original” movie. There are moments when the film — which was inspired by writer/director Cristóbal Krusen’s experiences with his son’s schizophrenia — does venture into that territory, replete with swelling music, light-suffused cinematography, and Krusen (who also stars) even reading Scripture directly to the audience. But when Krusen’s character begins to navigate the Kafka-esque hospital halls and bureaucracy to retrieve his son, the film develops a nightmarish weirdness that feels more akin to David Lynch. The key to understanding and appreciating the film at its most bizarre, I think, lies in Krusen’s opening narration: “A good bit of what you’re about to see is true as it happened. More is true, though, as to how it felt.” I’ve never experienced an immediate family member struggling with mental illness, but I can only imagine the stress, fear, and anxiety that it would hold for someone who does — and I think that subjective experience is what Krusen is ultimately trying to convey. Let Me Have My Son is by no means subtle, but it is earnest and honest, and its willingness to get weird combined with the obviously personal storyline keeps it from sinking into treacle.