The story of a teenager (Anna Paquin) who witnesses a fatal
bus accident and then spends the next weeks and months grappling with the
emotional fallout of the tragedy while life somehow trudges on around her
remains powerful and messy. The ensemble is rich and delicately balanced with
her mother (J. Smith-Cameron), the bus driver (Mark Ruffalo), teachers (Matt
Damon and Matthew Broderick), boys (John Gallagher Jr. and Kieran Kulkin), and
an unlikely new friend (Jeannie Berlin), among others, playing their parts in
her life story. Each character feels fully realized, even when in a plotline
that feels edited down to evocative wisps or in a relationship – as in the
sharply observed mother-daughter conflict - that slowly takes center stage. What’s
most powerful about the film, what makes it such an emotional workout, is the
way it manages to bottle a kind of whiplash self-important precociousness of
adolescence where grappling with deep and powerful philosophical and emotional
topics still unknowingly creates an incredibly self-centered point of view.
This is a film about a girl who slowly begins to realize that others are not
merely supporting characters in the opera of her life.
This is my second time through Margaret and I found it to be even better than I remembered. It’s
an expertly written, breathtakingly acted, experience, a sort of interior epic
that reconciles its lack of cohesion and conventional narrative within an
emotional framework that makes intuitive sense. Sitting near the front of the
theater with the towering screen revealing all the more strikingly the film’s
visual powers – a scene in which a taxi cab is suddenly, subtly surrounded by
buses felt nearly overwhelming – the film took on a precision that I somehow
missed in my initial viewing. Though I really liked the film at the time, I
have an even better appreciation now. How often can you sit and feel a big crowd wrestling with a film so
emotionally and thematically dense and articulate, so deeply felt and so
smartly filmed? The brilliance of Lonergan’s film is the way it invites us into
the life of a character and is unafraid to explore, to allow plot points to
exist and breathe like life events, to grow and develop, to wither or fade at
their own paces. It’s truly some kind of masterpiece.
Also screened:
Christopher
Kenneally’s documentary Side by Side
is a decent primer on the history of digital filmmaking and its conflict with
traditional celluloid. All arguments get their (sometimes surface-level) day in
court here as the film follows our host and guide Keanu Reeves as he talks to
prominent directors (Martin Scorsese, George Lucas, Steven Soderbergh, David
Fincher, Richard Linklater, David Lynch, Robert Rodriguez, Danny Boyle, Lars von
Trier, the Wachowskis, Christopher Nolan, James Cameron) and cinematographers
(Michael Ballhaus, Anthony Dod Mantle, Wally Pfister, Vittorio Storaro, David
Tattersall, Vilmos Zsigmond). The film’s a who’s who of modern cinema, filled
with interesting, charismatic artists, which makes it all the more
disappointing that it gets so carried away with its history lesson that it
forgets to actually interrogate these artists’ theories, claims, and opinions.
Instead of editing in a way that puts traditionalists, pioneers, and those in
the middle in some kind of conversation, the documentary is content to be an
overlong, occasionally repetitive, clip to show an Introduction to Film Studies class. That’s fine for
what it is, I suppose, but it certainly doesn’t have the kind of depth I would
have appreciated.
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