Review: Manchester by the Sea

Manchester by the Sea (15)

USA 2016  137 mins  Dir: Kenneth Lonergan Cast: Casey Affleck, Michelle Williams, Kyle Chandler, Lucas Hedges, Gretchen Mol

There’s no tragedy that can’t be overcome. Recovery might be slow and painful. But with the support of a strong family, light can always be glimpsed at the end of the tunnel. Eventually it’s possible to live and, perhaps, even love again after a grand catharsis of laughter and tears accompanied by swelling strings. That’s the warm fuzzy lie Hollywood likes to peddle, anyway. Playwright and director Kenneth Lonergan takes a different tack in his first major release since the justly lauded You Can Count On Me back in 2000 (2011’s Margaret was mired in distribution disputes). Its buttoned-down protagonist is also more than a little challenged in the likeability department, making Manchester by the Sea something of a hard sell. But with a strong awards season wind in its sails, this uncompromising, richly characterised drama could find a discerning audience who seek authenticity rather than the cheesy uplift of Tinseltown redemption.

In grey, wintry Boston, taciturn janitor Lee Chandler (Casey Affleck) spends his days fixing leaky taps and scraping shit out of blocked toilets. Hunched and withdrawn, he lives alone in a poky basement flat and resents any intrusion, no matter how friendly, while nursing his pint at a local bar. Thanks to his hair-trigger temper, most evenings seem to end in fisticuffs. That there’s more to Chandler’s poorly sublimated rage than irritation at his boss and clients becomes apparent when he receives a phone call summoning him back to his hometown of Manchester-by-the-Sea. His beloved older brother Joe (Kyle Chandler) has just carked it from a pre-existing heart condition. But Lee’s return to organise the funeral will also entail confronting head-on the tragic circumstances that led to his departure and which so shook the community that judgemental locals now mutter sotto voice: “Is that the Lee Chandler?” To his anger and alarm, he also learns that he has been appointed guardian of Joe’s 16-year-old son, Patrick (Lucas Hedges).

Abrupt flashbacks of varying lengths sketch in the details. We see Joe and Lee enjoying leisurely days on their fishing boat with the young Patrick, Joe’s spouse Elise (Gretchen Mol) hitting the bottle after his diagnosis, and – always rather alarming in films of this nature – a happy younger Lee joshing with his wife (Michelle Williams) and the couple’s children.

Casey Affleck has given his fair share of quality performances, occasionally in films that don’t really deserve them, but he’s never been better than he is completely inhabiting the haunted character of Lee, from his body language of emotional defeat to the social awkwardness that causes one woman to flee after only a short while in his company. Such is Lonergan’s skill in creating fully-rounded characters that even Michelle Williams makes a big impression despite having only a few minutes of screen time that culminates in a meltdown masterclass. Lucas Hedges is equally impressive as the horny, prickly adolescent who has no desire to be wrenched away from his full and settled life, in which he juggles two girlfriends and plays in a band. Oh, and if you’ve ever wondered what Ferris Bueller would look like as a paunchy middle-aged man, keep ’em peeled for a cameo by Lonegran’s old chum Matthew Broderick.

Were this a standard-issue Hollywood weepie, one might expect Joe and Patrick to do the odd couple thing and begin to bond over their bereavement, with the former gradually lightening up as he becomes a surrogate dad and forges a new relationship with one of the many women who are attracted to him.  Lonergan opts for something far more raw and realistic, in which an accommodation is reached while demons remain unconquered. His somewhat overwrought and over-familiar classical soundtrack choices (Albinoni’s Adagio in G Minor, yet again) are the only real mis-step, but even these permit moments of bravura filmmaking. Witness the funeral scene where the dialogue drops away to be replaced by an excerpt from Handel’s Messiah, every subtle nuance of emotion being conveyed without words. Expect awards by the bucketload.