ADirected by Kenneth Lonergan Starring Casey Affleck Review by Jon Kissel |  |
Early in Kenneth Lonergan’s latest opus, Manchester By the Sea, tortured protagonist Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck) is shown in happier times, fishing with his young nephew Patrick and his brother Joe (Kyle Chandler). While Joe steers, Lee teaches Patrick how to hold the line and what to do if he gets a bite. Lee describes the moment of catching a fish as pure happiness, but Lonergan withholds an image of this moment, because this isn’t that kind of film. There are pure emotions in Lonergan’s shattering film, but happiness isn’t one of them. The kind of film that sits on one’s chest long after the end credits roll, Manchester By the Sea is nigh-unrecommendable for any but the emotionally prepared. Its earnest and successful attempts at humor only serve to make the grief stand out that much more in relief. For those willing to tough it out through a veil of tears, the reward is one of 2016’s very best films, a slice of life drama that is familiar with despair but unwilling to wallow in it, that knows what misery is but is not miserable.
In the present-day events of Manchester By the Sea, Lee’s earlier interlude on the fishing boat with his brother and his nephew are distant memories. His life in Boston as a handyman is marked by solitude, broken up by the occasional bar fight. He keeps people at arm’s length as rule #1, ignoring those who would try and be friendly towards him and escalating polite disagreements into screaming tirades. This purgatorial existence is interrupted by news from Lee’s titular hometown: Joe has suddenly died from a heart attack. Lee returns in time to tell his now-teenage nephew (Lucas Hedges), and since Patrick’s mother Elise (Gretchen Mol) is out of the picture, it falls to Lee to take care of Patrick and decide whether or not he’s going to stay in Manchester By the Sea until Patrick is a legal adult, something the teen very much wants. Based on what we’ve seen of Lee’s life in Boston, this should be an easy decision, but the old haunts and acquaintances of the town, and especially the presence of Lee’s ex-wife Randi (Michelle Williams), serve as a constant reminder of Lee’s old life, a reminder that agonizes Lee and causes friction between himself and Patrick as they both mourn Joe’s death.
Lonergan’s earlier films, both penetrating family dramas like this one, presented their characters with thorny dilemmas that complemented their emotional growth and let them spin out in recognizable ways. All have dealt with death in one way or another, but Manchester By the Sea has the closest proximity, with the four primary characters being intimately associated with it. You Can Count On Me and Margaret presented scenarios that, while tragic, didn’t seem terribly far away from an average experience. The same cannot be said of Manchester By the Sea, which rests on an unknowable catastrophe that Joe’s death only serves to accentuate. There are unhealable wounds in Lee’s and Randi’s pasts, but as foreign as the experiences are, the emotions, tamped down by New England stoicism, are at an understandable level. The viewer spends a good chunk of the film waiting for, even hoping for, a catharsis, if only to get this communicable black tar out of the body, but because the characters are so internalized, it doesn’t come. The experience of watching Manchester By the Sea ranks up there with some of the most affecting in my cinematic life. Watching Lee swallow all this grief doesn’t allow for any respite, and it gets the viewer as close to his mindspace as possible.
The miracle in the film comes from being inside Lee’s head and it not being a wholly awful place, despite the dark clouds that swirl within. Manchester By the Sea is a funny film. The back and forth between Lee and Patrick, where neither will take any shit from the other, is a rapid-fire spread of exasperation and casual insults, made funnier by their age difference and funnier still by how it all rolls of each other’s back. The fish-out-of-water aspect of Lee suddenly forced into being a father-figure for a teen is a level of awkward comedy straight out of The Office, with Lee struggling to decide how he should advise Patrick about the strange freedom that has resulted from his dad’s death. Does the stopgap solution that is Lee comment about the teenage girl who’s suddenly joining him and Patrick for breakfast? The lived-in rapport extends to Lee and Randi in flashbacks to their married life. They share a relationship that is prickly but not brittle, and Williams manages the impossible feat of shutting down her husband’s late-night antics with friends without being a nag. As a family friend, C.J. Wilson gets in some choice asides, fulfilling the role of someone who commiserates with a grieving friend by trying to get them to laugh, and often succeeding. Lonergan knows how much he’s asking from his audience, and he doesn’t punish them with 137 minutes of black-dog depression.
After three exceptionally acted films, it’s fair to go ahead and call Lonergan an actor’s director. There aren’t any weak links in Manchester By the Sea, with each actor doing everything they can to be great and often succeeding. Williams is only in a tenth or so of the film, but her impact is significant and hangs over it all, a specter haunting Lee’s stay in town. It’s not difficult to imagine Chandler as a respected big brother after his role in Friday Night Lights, and while he is that here, he’s also just as clueless on how to deal with Lee as everyone else, with well-meaning befuddlement creasing his face. Hedges gets inside the skin of an adaptable teenager dealing with unforeseen circumstances, stretching his wings and testing boundaries but also able to go to pieces at a moment’s notice. He gets a little smirk when he realizes the leeway people give him due to his dead father, like I don’t have my dad but at least I can have this. The acclaim continues on down the cast list, with small roles fleshed out by Lonergan and performers like Heather Burns as a mother of one of Patrick’s girlfriends and Tate Donovan as Patrick’s hockey coach. Lonergan doesn’t cut any corners in populating the world, ensuring that every angle is smooth and coherent.
As great as the cast is, the film belongs to Affleck, fulfilling the potential unleashed back in 2007 with Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford and Gone Baby Gone. He disappears into the role of Lee, with monumental scene after monumental scene. The tragedy in his past follows him around like a ball and chain, and he’s got a permanently weary look from carrying it. A centerpiece scene between Lee and Randi has justly received raves. She gets the fireworks, and they are indeed bright, but he gets to put on a clinic in self-hatred, silently begging for an out and refusing to look her in the eye. This is one instance of many where Affleck is fully communicating his pain in subtle ways that are as powerful as a righteous scream to the heavens. Just him lifting his head in a police station is enough to send the viewer into stifled paroxysms.
Manchester By the Sea is an endurance test of hateful emotions and an honest depiction of death and pain, but like any physically difficult thing to do, the hard part is starting. Lonergan makes such a mentally immersive film that despite the brutality of it, it sings with momentum and longing to see these characters perhaps make it through to the other side, or at least open up their world a tiny bit. In their big confrontation, Randi begs Lee to not just go off and die, to try and rebuild a life on the rubble of their past, but Lonergan creates a scenario where maybe there isn’t any coming back. It’s hard to go to that place, but even with all the time spent after, lingering on its most painful moments, Manchester By the Sea is worth the journey. A
Lonergan’s earlier films, both penetrating family dramas like this one, presented their characters with thorny dilemmas that complemented their emotional growth and let them spin out in recognizable ways. All have dealt with death in one way or another, but Manchester By the Sea has the closest proximity, with the four primary characters being intimately associated with it. You Can Count On Me and Margaret presented scenarios that, while tragic, didn’t seem terribly far away from an average experience. The same cannot be said of Manchester By the Sea, which rests on an unknowable catastrophe that Joe’s death only serves to accentuate. There are unhealable wounds in Lee’s and Randi’s pasts, but as foreign as the experiences are, the emotions, tamped down by New England stoicism, are at an understandable level. The viewer spends a good chunk of the film waiting for, even hoping for, a catharsis, if only to get this communicable black tar out of the body, but because the characters are so internalized, it doesn’t come. The experience of watching Manchester By the Sea ranks up there with some of the most affecting in my cinematic life. Watching Lee swallow all this grief doesn’t allow for any respite, and it gets the viewer as close to his mindspace as possible.
The miracle in the film comes from being inside Lee’s head and it not being a wholly awful place, despite the dark clouds that swirl within. Manchester By the Sea is a funny film. The back and forth between Lee and Patrick, where neither will take any shit from the other, is a rapid-fire spread of exasperation and casual insults, made funnier by their age difference and funnier still by how it all rolls of each other’s back. The fish-out-of-water aspect of Lee suddenly forced into being a father-figure for a teen is a level of awkward comedy straight out of The Office, with Lee struggling to decide how he should advise Patrick about the strange freedom that has resulted from his dad’s death. Does the stopgap solution that is Lee comment about the teenage girl who’s suddenly joining him and Patrick for breakfast? The lived-in rapport extends to Lee and Randi in flashbacks to their married life. They share a relationship that is prickly but not brittle, and Williams manages the impossible feat of shutting down her husband’s late-night antics with friends without being a nag. As a family friend, C.J. Wilson gets in some choice asides, fulfilling the role of someone who commiserates with a grieving friend by trying to get them to laugh, and often succeeding. Lonergan knows how much he’s asking from his audience, and he doesn’t punish them with 137 minutes of black-dog depression.
After three exceptionally acted films, it’s fair to go ahead and call Lonergan an actor’s director. There aren’t any weak links in Manchester By the Sea, with each actor doing everything they can to be great and often succeeding. Williams is only in a tenth or so of the film, but her impact is significant and hangs over it all, a specter haunting Lee’s stay in town. It’s not difficult to imagine Chandler as a respected big brother after his role in Friday Night Lights, and while he is that here, he’s also just as clueless on how to deal with Lee as everyone else, with well-meaning befuddlement creasing his face. Hedges gets inside the skin of an adaptable teenager dealing with unforeseen circumstances, stretching his wings and testing boundaries but also able to go to pieces at a moment’s notice. He gets a little smirk when he realizes the leeway people give him due to his dead father, like I don’t have my dad but at least I can have this. The acclaim continues on down the cast list, with small roles fleshed out by Lonergan and performers like Heather Burns as a mother of one of Patrick’s girlfriends and Tate Donovan as Patrick’s hockey coach. Lonergan doesn’t cut any corners in populating the world, ensuring that every angle is smooth and coherent.
As great as the cast is, the film belongs to Affleck, fulfilling the potential unleashed back in 2007 with Assassination of Jesse James By the Coward Robert Ford and Gone Baby Gone. He disappears into the role of Lee, with monumental scene after monumental scene. The tragedy in his past follows him around like a ball and chain, and he’s got a permanently weary look from carrying it. A centerpiece scene between Lee and Randi has justly received raves. She gets the fireworks, and they are indeed bright, but he gets to put on a clinic in self-hatred, silently begging for an out and refusing to look her in the eye. This is one instance of many where Affleck is fully communicating his pain in subtle ways that are as powerful as a righteous scream to the heavens. Just him lifting his head in a police station is enough to send the viewer into stifled paroxysms.
Manchester By the Sea is an endurance test of hateful emotions and an honest depiction of death and pain, but like any physically difficult thing to do, the hard part is starting. Lonergan makes such a mentally immersive film that despite the brutality of it, it sings with momentum and longing to see these characters perhaps make it through to the other side, or at least open up their world a tiny bit. In their big confrontation, Randi begs Lee to not just go off and die, to try and rebuild a life on the rubble of their past, but Lonergan creates a scenario where maybe there isn’t any coming back. It’s hard to go to that place, but even with all the time spent after, lingering on its most painful moments, Manchester By the Sea is worth the journey. A
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