Hope this email finds you ... hahaha did you think I was going to make you suffer through a canned email opener?
Anyways, hope this Saturday is a good one - ideally somewhat unplugged from a screen, but who am I to judge if that's your self-isolation strategy of choice?
A small non-film thing bringing me joy right now: John Mulaney and Nick Kroll started a "Oh, Hello!" podcast, which just has me cackling. Every time they pronounce it "p'd-CAST," I can't help but laugh.
One month in self-isolation be like...
A quick update that no one asked for but you're getting anyways! (I'm realizing now this is a fairly sassy way to start the newsletter when things are about to get real somber in the recommendation section, but oh well, if you can't handle me at my...) As you're likely aware, COVID-19 has led to a lot of racism against Chinese people - not to mention other Asian ethnicities from which these bombastic bigots are unable to distinguish. New York Magazine had a really great write-up of how activists have come together to create a new platform to protect restaurants of Chinese restaurants and connect New Yorkers with still-open establishments since many are not very tech-forward. The result? Welcome to Chinatown, which all my NYC-bound readers should browse:
One of my fave restaurants in New York, the plant-based P.S. Kitchen (which already donates all their profits to charity), has mobilized their kitchen to feed frontline workers at Weill Cornell. There's something to be said for making sure these folks are fed with healthy, nutritious, high-quality food - and a generous donor has agreed to match every dollar of the next $15,000 they raise on their GoFundMe.
Now, what you came for...
(Past suggestions archived on Letterboxd)
DAY 30: Manchester by the Sea (available on Amazon Prime)
I promise this is not about to proselytizing or evangelizing, but I'm currently observing Holy Saturday as part of my faith practice. ("Observing" mostly meaning I'm acknowledging the solemnity of the day, not really undertaking any fastidious spiritual task, to fully level with you.) I only mention it because the Holy Saturday situation, wedged between the pain of Good Friday and the triumph of Easter, maps pretty well onto a societal situation at large.
It's a day of uncertainty and unease. There's a suspension of reality, knowing better days lie ahead but unable to grasp them. Holy Saturday reminds me a bit of how Tony Kushner describes the "painful progress" of the world in Angels in America: "longing for what we've left behind and dreaming ahead." I can't think of a better movie for this specific mood than Kenneth Lonergan's Manchester by the Sea (which, for my money, still has not been topped by any new release since it came out in 2016).
If you have any familiarity with the movie, you might be thinking to yourself right now, "Manchester by the Sea? Wow, that's such a downer, and I thought these recommendations were supposed to be optimistic and uplifting!" I can explain. First, I won't deny that there is deep, painful tragedy at the heart of this film. Lonergan renders it with such wrenching detail that if you think it might affect you too adversely, maybe save this movie for another date.
But to say that this tragic event fully defines the film's mood and outlook is to miss the point of Manchester by the Sea. (People look at me like I have three heads when I say this, but it's actually a thoroughly hilarious movie - there's one physical gag that arrives at such an unexpectedly somber moment, and my jaw was on the floor at the gutsiness.) Lonergan does not grant us the kind of faux comfort the cinema often provides: the erroneous notion that a character's problems can be solved within the synthetic time frame of a two-ish hour narrative. It's not a film about overcoming one's suffering but learning how to acknowledge it and love through the pain.
"Some people don’t get over things, some people have something like this where they’re in a state of grief and can’t get over it right now," Lonergan (by way of producer Matt Damon) observed, "and those people deserve a movie too.” Maybe you or someone you know is suffering or grieving right now. Our country and world certainly are. And, unlike in the movies, that suffering might not necessarily be instructive or constructive. Sometimes, it's just painful - even more so in situations that might have been otherwise avoided or prevented. There's an odd comfort I find inManchester by the Sea's willingness to meet us where we are, which is often times unable to surmount or beat back the grief we feel.
It often feels like the film's protagonist, the ascetic and self-exiled Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck), might be on the verge of a breakthrough. After consigning himself to Sisyphean-like apartment repairs outside of Boston, Lee is reluctantly forced to return to his titular hometown to provide emergency care for his teenaged nephew Patrick (Lucas Hedges) after his father dies. In remarkably (and deceptively) motivated flashback sequences, we come to see how simply being back in Manchester by the Sea triggers Lee's memories of guilt, despair and self-doubt. Perhaps the necessity of finding a guardian for Patrick, a role for which Lee seems at least nominally suited, might spur him to turn a corner.
No spoilers for those who haven't seen the film, but I find the film's ultimate resolution to be tremendously affecting in its optimism. Don't expect to leave Manchester by the Sea feeling effervescent or rejuvenated in the power of hope, to be clear, but the film arrives at a conclusion that feels natural and about as positive as one can expect given the circumstances of the story. Lonergan exposes the futility of trying to build a future from the charred remains of the past; only in being willing and open to start anew, scary and uncertain as it might seem, are we as people able to move forward. We don't get to see what that future is in the film, but I always leave it with the expectation that this new structure can sustain both Lee and Patrick.
I could truly go on and on about Manchester by the Sea because I think it is close to a perfect film - I don't think there's a single moment misjudged or a shot out of place. But I think the last word should belong to Lonergan. This is from his play The Waverly Gallery, but I think it sums up the overall sentiment that moves me so deeply in his works about flawed people fighting to connect through tough circumstances:
“It’s not true that if you try hard enough, you’ll prevail in the end. Because so many people try so hard, and they don’t prevail. But they keep trying. They keep struggling. And they love each other so much—it makes you think it must be worth a lot to be alive.”
Be good to yourselves and to each other,
Marshall