Manchester By The Sea (2016)

Written and Directed by Kenneth Lonergan

 

Let me start this review by deeply exhaling, borderline sobbing, into a nearby pillow. Jesus Christ. I can do this.

Casey Affleck jovially suggested in his recent gig hosting SNL that Manchester By The Sea was very sad. Depressingly sad. Just very, very sad. He wasn’t joking and, if anything, I could suggest that him joking about this movie being sad was a half-assed version of a trigger warning.

Overview

Manchester By The Sea follows the story of Lee Chandler (Affleck), as he attempts to navigate through life as a lowly multi-apartment custodian. He lives alone, drinks alone, eats alone. Are you seeing a trend? When he is floored by news about his brother Joe’s death (Kyle Chandler), he is forced to take on the responsibilities left to him by his brother. This includes taking permanent guardianship of his nephew, Patrick (Lucas Hedges), maintaining Joe’s fishing vessel, which in turn means dramatic changes to Lee’s life as a lonely sad person.

Throughout the narrative, we get glimpses of flashbacks that set up the more current goings-on. Each one offers the viewers a greater context behind the thought-process of Lee, his former relationship with his ex-wife Randi (Michelle Williams), and even earlier interactions with young Patrick out on Joe’s fishing boat. It is through these we come to understand why Lee is so reluctant and resistant to take on all of these responsibilities, despite wanting to respect Joe’s posthumous wishes. With everything having come to a head, Lee is forced to acknowledge the greatest factor in all of this, his past.

Catharsis (and Spoilers)

To me, this isn’t a film that truly warrants a “spoiler” warning. Much like the content of the film, it is worth tackling head-on in a way that allows just as the heading says, “catharsis.”

When I walked out of this movie, I didn’t feel like I could say anything about it. It felt real; arguably, it was too real. To say anything that vaguely resembled criticism would be almost self-deprecating. While the events that transpire within Manchester don’t fully reflect events that I have experienced, but I have dared myself to find a film that I connected, or even sympathized, with more. I failed to do so.

Manchester By The Sea has a few choked-up-worthy moments, including a seemingly inconspicuous trip to the grocery store after Lee shuffles his buddies out of his house at 2 AM. Lee trudges down to the store, too drunk to drive, and when he returns, his house is on fire. Randi is being held back by police and firefighters both as she screams, “My kids are in there!” Lee stands in awe as his life unravels before his eyes.

Following this, we see another flashback of the next day, where Lee is being questioned by police at the station about what caused the fire. It is then to be revealed that the fire may have been Lee’s fault, as a log he placed in the fireplace has begun to smolder and rolled out onto the carpet to set the home ablaze. Lee recalls not putting up the gate in front of the fireplace. Lee is let-off, scot-free, much to his own surprise. “We’re not gonna crucify you, Lee. It was an accident.” Even despite having admitted to smoking marijuana, getting drunk, and possibly dabbling in cocaine, Lee is dumbfounded to be set free. Upon confirming he has a ride home with his brother and father with police, he walks out of the interrogation room, and with that oft-noted Lee Chandler moment of hesitation, he swipes a gun off of an officer and presses the gun to his temple. He is tackled and smothered by officers and his family before he is able to commit the deed.

Fuck.

Over the course of the film, whenever Lee is faced with a difficult decision, he crumbles. That one-time-family-man Lee turns into a disheveled and drunken bar-brawler because he has no other way of coping with the shit he’s had to deal with in his life. He drinks heavily. He fights. He punches the walls. These are all textbook examples of behaviors belonging to a lot of different mental ailments, but perhaps most importantly, Manchester serves as a reminder of the crippling effects PTSD. And that is something I can connect with.

I lost my mother when I was twelve years old. Not only is it something that I have accepted in the past thirteen years, but it has become a part of who I am today. It has shaped me in many ways, including serving as a catalyst for my successes in my young adult life. In 2013, my father was dramatically affected by the explosion of an apartment building right next door to where we used to life. He has been living with the harmful effects of smoke inhalation, minor scars from the burns he received, but the most devastating thing he’s had to deal with is PTSD.

It’s hard to understand why people with PTSD do what they do. To them, it is rational thinking, but within the confines of constant neurotic turmoil. It is safe to say that my father is not the same person today as he was five years ago. It’s been an incredibly difficult experience since then, but it comes with a mutual understanding between my father and I: life is full of bumps, barriers, hazards, and breakdowns, but how we deal with these things is what makes us who we are. My father’s PTSD has slowed him down immensely, but that has not stopped him from continuing to support his family, work his steady job, and try to make the most of a terrible situation.

In many ways, watching Casey Affleck’s brilliant performance as Lee Chandler sparked a range of mixed emotions. When I saw Lee Chandler on-screen, I saw my father over and over again: a past (or present for Lee) of alcoholism, the distant relationships with family and friends,  and disengaged conversations. Manchester felt almost too real, too relatable to my life. From taking place in New England (seeing as I am from mid-coast Maine), the range of botched New England accents, catching Bruins hockey games on TV, right down to the fricking forest green Carhartt jacket that Lee wears, which I am convinced is the same one my dad still owns today.

Strengths

1. The acting in this movie is easily the best thing about it.

The combination of Casey Affleck and Michelle Williams, despite her limited supporting role, is one for the books. Affleck, calling it now, will win the Best Actor Oscar for this role. Lee Chandler is a tragic character in every sense of the word. Affleck takes on Lee’s hopes and dreams, watches them all fall apart, and tries to pick up the pieces in such a way that we aren’t capable of discerning whether or not we should help him or continue looking on at the train wreck in front of us. Furthermore, Lucas Hedges’ portrayal of Patrick, whose accent isn’t terrible, is also sure to garner the Academy’s favor. Never before have I wanted to cry watching someone pick up frozen meat off the floor before amidst a panic attack.

2. Pacing and flashback sequences are on-point.

In a world where most movie-goers aren’t really interested in sitting through a two-hour sobfest, Lonergan’s writing and direction are paced brilliantly to make sure no one is bored. Every scene feels like it means something to the story, enhancing our views of Patrick, Lee, or the past with Randi and Joe. Each flashback gives us valuable insight and information that evokes profound emotion and shows passion for the story, structure, and characters on screen. No scene is too long or too short. It just feels right. Manchester is Ken Lonergan’s baby and we need to respect him for it.

Weaknesses

1. There’s one scene that needed to be in the movie.

Near the end of the second act of Manchester, Lee is running errands downtown and runs into Randi on the street. She offers him lunch or a cup of coffee, but Lee being Lee, he wants no part of it. She is upset, not with him, but with herself. She exclaims, “I love you,” which tugs at our heartstrings even more. Randi profusely apologizes to Lee, trying to find some vulnerability, some opening, to get him to come out of his shell. She says something to the effect of “I should burn in hell for all the things I said to you,” referencing the blame-game that ensued following the deaths of their children. It might be minor, but I wanted that scene. I think it would have pushed her performance over the edge, not just teetering, for a future gold statuette for Williams.

Conclusion

Manchester By The Sea is nothing short of powerful. Despite my cathartic gushing and wallowing, I wish to repeat that it’s been a long time, if not the first time, that a movie made me feel the things I felt watching this movie. Lee might not be the easiest character to empathize with, but damn is it hard not to root for him to turn his life around.

To try to make both of us feel better, here’s Casey Affleck’s “Mayor of Dunkins” skit from SNL.

Score: A probably biased 5 Vanilla Nut Taps out of 5

My name is Will and I am not a Star Wars lifer. I’m not even a Star Wars quarter-lifer. I didn’t see my first Star Wars film until I reviewed in on my other blog, Dr. Awesome Film Reviews, back in 2013. It was a sweet experience, one that was filled with references that made me exclaim, “Yep, that was from Star Wars the whoooooole time.”

Since then, we’ve been blessed with two brand new additions to the canon, Star Wars VII: The Force Awakens, and now Rogue One. With TFA being stellar, Rogue One had big shoes to fill, since most other Star Wars prequels had been, well….terrible. So, with all of that out in the open, it’s safe to say that Rogue One was not only great, but it made people go out of their way to completely forget how to spell! What chaos!

The story of Rogue One is centered around a rogue one, Jyn Erso (Felicity Jones), who is the daughter of formerly-Imperial-scientist-turned-farmer-turned-saboteur-Imperial-scientist, Galen Erso (Mads Mikkelson). As a young girl, her father is taken from her by the Empire, more specifically by power-hungry Director Orson Krennic (Ben Mendelsohn), as Galen has the scientific book-smarts to help the Empire build a super-weapon capable of destroying planets. Wait for it…the Death Star. Flash forward approximately fifteen years and Jyn finds herself amidst Rebellion-led attempts to desperately seek intelligence about this new weapon. She falls in with an Alliance officer, Cassian Andor (Diego Luna), as they scour various planets and moons seeking information that would lead them to Jyn’s father and/or the building of the Death Star.

When on the moon Jedha, they are taken captive by the extreme militant, Saw Gerrara (Forest Whitaker), aka Mr. “I CAN’T ESCAPE MY FALLOUT POWER ARMOR COSPLAY,” who not only has information about the whereabouts of Galen, but also a defected Imperial pilot who aids in their quest and a hologram message from Galen himself. Within this message, we are exposed to the secret plot conducted by Galen all along: he specifically sabotaged the construction of the Death Star, the single easily-overlooked weakness that we’ve all come to know and understand from the original Star Wars film. Cassian and Jyn work together, alongside the Alliance’s rebellion, to seek out the plans for the construction of the Death Star so the Alliance can work to destroy it (in future films).

Note: beyond this mark, there be spoilers. AHHHHHHHHHHH!

Okay, so, there’s some great stuff going on here. Like every film, the movie has incredible strengths and somewhat devastating weaknesses. To really flesh these ideas out, I’m going to directly and indirectly spoil some key sequences. You’ve been warned.

Strengths

1. The supporting cast is easily the best thing about this movie.

Without the supporting actors, this script flops. Key members of the ensemble like Whitaker, Mendelsohn, and Donnie-Facking-Yen really make this movie great. While Whitaker’s character is merely a stepping stone that gets rolled in the destruction of Jedha, Whitaker gives this character life. He’s described as an “extremist,” yet he’s awfully soft-spoken. That’s what makes him terrifying. There’s a really unsettling scene of Saw using a miniature Godzilla villain to nearly lobotomize the Imperial pilot. No thank you.

Krennic’s capture of Galen in the opening scene inevitably led him to seize more power within the Empire’s hierarchy. Mendelsohn’s performance is what dreams are made of; he’s great as a slimy, conniving, corrupt, and fear-inducing villain that’ll do anything to please Vader and the Emperor. Naturally being Australian, Mendelsohn’s rage slips in and out of accent, but y’know, I don’t care. It makes the anger more believable.

Donnie Yen, probably best known for the Ip Man franchise, plays a pivotal role in the supporting cast. He is one-part Legolas, one-part Ip Man, and one-part blind comedic relief. In the scene where Gerrara’s men capture him alongside Jyn and Cassian, he is hooded and dragged away. In doing so, he yells, “Are you kidding me? I’m blind!” Not a single person in the theater wasn’t dying of laughter.

2. Darth Vader is still too cool for Jedi school.

Holy shit. Man. Vader has two scenes in the movie, but it’s not like the Joker in Suicide Squad. MOTHERFUCKERS EVEN GOT JAMES EARL JONES IN ON THIS. Phew. Okay. I’m ready.

Vader’s presence is often alluded to early on, specifically by Krennic. Once we see him, both in burnt-skin-sitting-in-my-spa form and the classic heavy-breathing version, it evokes nothing but the classic sense of terror, suspense, and fanboy nostalgia that every 40-something felt seeing the original iteration in theaters back in the late 1970s. As for a real spoiler, Vader’s last scene, in the final five/seven minutes of the film, is nothing short of breathtaking. You watch it, you see the Alliance officers skittering like rats into a sewer grate, and you just have to say, “Those dudes are fuuuuuuuucked.”

3. The Star Wars realm continues to be vast and awesome.

Much like my first time viewing the original trilogy, this film continuously had me blown away by the creative worlds, characters, and creatures that inhabit each one. Whether its the former Jedi Temple’s home of Jedha, the Imperial base on the tropical planet, Scarif, or Eadu, the mining planet that has more lightning strikes than Florida, these places are immense and can be easily recollected because of their unique characteristics.

Weaknesses

1. Jyn Erso fits the mold as an unlikable protagonist.

The more I thought about this idea, the more it made sense. Jyn Erso is not that interesting, but rather a more plastic and less versatile Rey. The writers and new-age Star Wars-think-tankers, I’m sure, are gunning to revitalize the narrative of “female protagonists in male-dominated genres are what we need!” Yes, that is technically accurate. However, Jyn’s narrative is one that is fraught with skepticism. Do they trust her? No. Can she command the audience in an Alliance town-hall meeting? You bet your sweet bippy. But how did they establish that trust? It’s kind of loose justification, especially if you’re leaning on her biggest critic, Cassian. I guess having him feel guilty about maybe sniping Galen without her knowledge is enough. Maybe it isn’t.

Just as characters are dying left and right on screen, we feel more connected to them and their struggles than hers. “Rebellions are built on hope” she says in the trailer. Apparently Cassian’s lines aren’t the only thing she steals from this movie. Lord of the Rings fans (at least many of them) will tell you similar struggles with how whiny and childish Frodo is, and even some Star Wars fans will tell you how much they find Luke Skywalker to be equally insufferable. Jyn just doesn’t cut it. She’s got the personality of a clipboard, yet we are compelled to follow her to the end of her journey.

2. Game of Thrones character arcs are a tough pill to swallow.

Are you familiar with the story of the 300 Spartans? A rogue group of soldiers are sent on their way  like some kinda “suicide squad” to defeat an insurmountable empire? Ring any bells? It should, because Rogue One is a glorified, albeit more interesting, version of that story.

In the same vein, Game of Thrones appears. On the ride home from the movies, my fiancee was particularly upset with the fact that almost every single new character from Rogue One dies. Jyn, Cassian, Donnie Yen, Krennic, Donnie Yen’s bodyguard who probably has a name, Galen, Saw Gerrara. All of ’em. Whether it’s in battle with the Empire on Scarif, getting planet’d to death on Jedha, or totally eating your words and getting Death-Starred (I’m looking at you, Krennic), they’re just super dead. In fitting the mold of the 300 Spartans mythos, they have to die. They don’t exist in A New Hope. They are the soldiers sent, or in this case volunteered, to be slaughtered for the rebellion. My fiancee is not wrong. It doesn’t feel great to watch the characters that you establish a connection with die on-screen. The difference here is that it doesn’t feel gratuitous like Game of Thrones, where killing characters is the sport of choice for George R.R. Martin. They serve a purpose; they’re not red shirts. We care for these characters, but we also know what’s coming: a new hope.

Conclusion

Rogue One is a bonafide hit. It hits all the right notes, pulls your heart strings, and generates a lot of empathy and laughs alike. While the inevitable heat death of most of the characters isn’t awesome, the fact that easily-recognized characters emerge pre-Episode IV, including a CGI Moff Tarkin, is a nice throwback for fanboys and movie-goers everywhere. It should also be said that this is easily the most ethnically diverse cast ever assembled for a Star Wars flick. Sure we got John Boyega and Daisy Ridley for Episode VII, but this is different. This feels bigger. I can see great things coming on the horizon for this franchise.

Score: 4.5 Rouges out of 5