Known colloquially as “The Dakota Fanning Rape Movie” since its premiere at last year’s Sundance Film Festival, Deborah Kampmeier’s “Hounddog” arrives in theaters Friday after a long distribution struggle with a handicap that it just can’t shake.

Young Ms. Fanning plays Lewellen, a motherless 12-year-old growing up poor in the Deep South circa the mid-1950s. Living with her bitter grandmother (Piper Laurie) and disturbingly callous father (David Morse), Lewellen distracts herself from the monotony of her life with a fervent Elvis obsession and the few friends she can find.

When Elvis comes to town for a concert, Lewellen is sure that if she can just show the pop star her singing talent, it will win her the ticket to a better life. But her desperation to see the King gets her something much worse.

The aura of unsettling anticipation leading up to the film’s decisive scene is almost unbearable. Lewellen is sent constant reminders of her insignificance in this small town. The only bright lights come in her interactions with gospel music via the black caretaker, Charles (Afemo Omilami), and in the brief moments of youthful spontaneity and flirtation with another preteen named Buddy (Cody Hanford).

In the meantime, Lewellen’s grandmother shifts the blame for her daughter’s sin of pregnancy out of wedlock to Lewellen, while Lewellen’s father exercises rule over his meager domain through violence and sexual dominance. Both Lewellen and the beautiful blond woman (Robin Wright Penn) in his clutches are repelled and retained by his strange, brutish hold.

But while Lewellen’s lack of money and pedigree separate her from society, her youth, precociousness, and incessant warbling of Elvis tunes draw others to her, especially males. The men in “Hounddog” circle the edges of the film like vultures before, finally, one of them makes his move.

The result is a disturbing sexuality that straddles an uncomfortable gray area between social justice and exploitation. For the majority of the film, Ms. Fanning prances around innocently, unconscious of her movements or the effect that her childish impetuousness has on those around her. For a viewer, it’s impossible to ignore.

Ms. Fanning, who actually was 12 when the movie was shot, is dressed in threadbare clothing and loose undergarments, often soaking wet. The ill-fitting dresses and hand-me-downs always seem to accentuate her tiny, preadolescent form.

This aspect of the film is where “Hounddog” runs into trouble. To properly tell this tale of mishandled childhood, the story requires a performance that should probably not be asked of such a young child, which has led to protests and charges of child pornography.

Ms. Fanning provides the film with a steadily candid integrity as the unseemly aspects of predatory sexuality swirl around her character. When Lewellen is denigrated, the young actress seems, fortunately, unable to grasp the full meaning of what has happened. Diminished, Lewellen really begins to look like a little girl playing dress-up. She continues in her fascination with Elvis’s music, however, and appears to find her voice again through connecting with one source of his music — gospel.

Ms. Kampmeier has created a Southern Gothic tale in which the moral hierarchy has been inverted by attachments to religion, false righteousness, and wealth. But watching the world she has created fold in upon itself becomes unbearable.

Teenage boys jeer with impunity. A little rich girl uses her wealth to manipulate Lewellen and steal her boyfriend. Whiskey drinking, Bible thumping, and wise black folk spouting spiritual chestnuts run rampant. By the time a lightning bolt renders Daddy a mute simpleton, the story has run the gamut of absurd, vaguely Southern cinematic stereotypes.

The inhabitants in this town are literally surrounded by snakes in the grass. Early in the story, “Hounddog” dispels the old myth that whiskey cures snakebites. To the contrary, it hastens the spread of venom through the victim’s bloodstream. When that factoid comes back to bite one of the lead characters, it becomes less a reckoning for bad behavior than a blessing that signals the closing credits.