(USA, 137 min.)
Written and directed by Kenneth Lonergan
Starring: Casey Affleck, Michelle Williams, Lucas Hedges,
Kyle Chandler, Gretchen Mol
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| Michelle Williams and Casey Affleck in Manchester by the Sea. Photo by Claire Folger, Courtesy of Amazon Studios and Roadside Attractions |
Manchester by the Sea
is a beast of burdens. There’s enormous weight to this new film by Kenneth
Lonergan (You Can Count on Me and the
embattled Margaret) and it’s a lot to
bear. The film, painful and often authentic with its life-like emotions and
hunger, crushes and moves a viewer. In the vein of Todd Field’s raw and
devastating New England nightmare In the
Bedroom, Manchester by the Sea
shows how grief cripples, transforms, and ultimately heals a person.
The film is a sombre character study that centres upon Lee Chandler, played by Casey Affleck in an awfully subdued performance. Lee’s a deadbeat drunk who drifts through life as a janitor in the Boston area. Moping around the building, changing light bulbs, and unclogging toilets before heading off to the bar to drink his paycheck dry, Lee’s life is one of revolving hangovers. It’s also one of constant penance as Lonergan gradually reveals through the film’s fractured screenplay.
Lee confronts the ghosts of his past when his brother Joe
(Kyle Chandler) dies unfairly young as a result of congestive heart failure.
Unbeknownst to Lee, Joe leaves his brother as the guardian of his son Patrick,
played by newcomer Lucas Hedges. Patrick is a typical teenager who speaks in
monosyllabic dialogue while his thumbs can’t seem to shut up with whomever he’s
typing away at on his smartphone.
Manchester by the Sea
thrusts audiences into the cold waters of grief as Patrick comes to terms with
his father’s death and Lee struggles to let go of the past by accepting his new
role as father figure. Scenes play out by focussing on mundane and minute
details, like how Patrick fixates on frozen chicken after learning that his
father needs to chill until his burial, while Lee broods silently with a beer
and sullen expression. Manchester says
a lot without really saying anything and the punctuations of dark, pensive
silence are wrought with loaded emotion.
At the centre of the film is Lee’s relationship with his
ex-wife Randi. Michelle Williams plays Randi and steals Manchester by the Sea despite having fairly little screen time.
Williams appears in only a handful of scenes that mostly fill in the backstory
and illuminate Lee’s despair, but the selective cutting between the solemn Lee
and his once-joyful home life with Randi helps the audience understand and
sympathise with the inaccessible Lee as his life disintegrates on one hand and
finds light in the other. Williams is exceptionally good in the film’s
climactic scene in which Randi confronts Lee and seeks forgiveness. The
heartbreaking scene cuts hard as Williams’ performance conveys how deeply grief
fractures relationships with the ones we love most.
Affleck’s performance, on the other hand, wears the solemn
face of guilt and self-loathing as Lee refuses to forgive himself for the
mistakes of his past. The detached character is very difficult and refuses to
let the audience in, and Affleck’s blank, restrained performance keep one at a
distance. Hedges, however, provides the same cathartic balance that Williams
does as Patrick’s presence compensates for Lee’s coldness.
Lonergan’s screenplay is very talky despite the pepperings
of profound silence. Manchester adopts
the salty vernacular of this small town as F-bombs drop and folks babble in
pointless, circular conversations as they deal with death. Chatty ramblings
create convincing relationships between the characters, who feel more like
humans or subjects of a doc that observes life in small town America rather
than fictional creations. There are times when Manchester’s fixation on creating natural slice-of-life moments
rings false though, particularly when Lonergan injects awkward black humour
into the mix. For example, one devastating flashback scene sees Randi lifted
into an ambulance and Manchester easily
spends a minute watching the paramedics struggle with the gurney as the legs
beneath the stretcher keep falling loose whenever they try to hoist the
patient. Ditto the recurring touch of pointlessly trailing random passersby as
they walk down the street. When Manchester
succeeds with its authenticity, it’s brilliant; however, it’s coy, false, and
frustrating whenever it misses the mark.
The dark and stormy waters of Manchester by the Sea are best in Lonergan’s depiction of small
town life and in the pain of loss than hangs over the film. Haunting music by
Canadian composer Lesley Barber underscores both the overwhelming air of grief
and the strong sense of small town character that defines the film. Manchester by the Sea might be the last
thing one wants to experience after a long day of work, but the pain is worth
it.
Manchester by the Sea is now in theatres.
