Manchester by the Sea

Michelle Williams as Randi and Casey Affleck as Lee Chandler

    There are different ways that people resign themselves to the horror of the way life happens to them. It's a basic human thing everywhere. People generally pick a corner and adopt a life view. They gather around people that feel the same way. Casey Affleck plays Lee Chandler in Manchester by the Sea. He's a quiet and reserved janitor living in his corner. He left Manchester for Boston to escape the reminder of how his children died. But his brother has a heart attack and names him the guardian of his son, Patrick (Lucas Hedges). Now, a delayed funeral and brotherly duty keeps him bound in Manchester longer than he wants to be there.

     I came into Manchester by the Sea 20 minutes late. The movie resonates with me, though it was much easier to appreciate it after the credits finished. The Oscar nods are deserving, I think. Lee is like a wounded animal that keeps getting bumped and knocked by people in a crowded Times Square street. He doesn’t snarl, he just kinda limps on with his tail between his legs. Lee is not an abusive guy. In fact, he’s an extraordinarily patient guy. That's the aspect about this character that makes his wound easier to listen past for 2 1/2 hours. In one scene, Patrick and his friends are being loud and obnoxious in the next room. You can almost feel how this company grates on Lee. Like clanging cymbals. But mostly, he overlooks his nephew’s irritations. There is so little to nourish Lee. There was no life or healing in the words of his world. I know most people have no problem with the profanity in the movie, but it made the character’s suffering harder for me. I couldn't help but note how the characters around him were all medicating in their corners too. It made me desire their joy. But still, it's the hint of courage in Lee that resonates with me. I think now that it was a humility that was in slow bloom in the wasteland of his life. If he really was brought to ruin, I wonder if he would’ve been as long-suffering as he was. When he runs into his ex-wife Randi (Michelle Williams) and she seemingly wants to reconcile with him. He stops short. On the night his house burned down, Lee was high and his actions led to it being engulfed in fierce flames with his children inside. She cursed him for it. He has a chance to curse her back. He doesn't. I think he might've been trying to protect her. That kind of grace only comes from God. I don't know how to explain the mechanics of that. Clearly, he was a man who didn't place very much faith in God.   

  

Lucas Hedges as Patrick

     But I still wondered at how people raved about this film. It pulsates with sadness. I thought of what God has to say about darkness. My mind raced back to films like Leaving Las Vegas or even The Crossing Guard-- all really great stories about mournful humanity seeking resolution. Why was this such a big film? I think, in part it's an embrace of death. It's in our culture. We can be very masochistic. We can take such pride in our pain and make it identity. Even the most strong can refuse to let go for the sake of health and the peace of loved ones. Not really because one can't. But because there are those who deep down know they would lose their perceived self-importance. That is the pride that kills over and over. In our day and age of picking corners and of choosing gods that suit us, we have learned to celebrate an ill choice and call it good. It's like a silent atom bomb that even kills generations later. We've stopped teaching our children to reject that. The people around Lee Chandler are all pleasant smiles and gestures, but for many of them it's just a cover-up. 

Jack Nicholson in The Crossing Guard

    On the other hand, there is the worthy part of these kind of movies that benefits mankind. It's the catharsis. The honesty of how these characters are played and how it does something for the aching souls of those who see it. How they can see themselves and even in some cases decide to make a change. That’s valid too. I’m not implying that Kenneth Lonergan, the writer and director of the film should’ve injected inspiration and light for a movement toward restorative health. You can’t force that. Even God has perfect timing. There's hope, I think. I think that it's worthwhile to note what could be hope in how Lee responds to the people around him. He’s just trying to live and I think he inadvertently finds the first buds of humility. Humility is not something you learn from a book. Humility in pretense gives off a bad smell. Humility is serving and loving someone else more than yourself. It’s ordained and driven by the fingerprint of God. It's rare and the cost is always huge. 

Elisabeth Shue and Nicholas Cage in
Leaving Las Vegas

    The following is a PBS covered film review that gives an interview with Kenneth Lonergan: