Most Unflinching: ’Til Madness Do Us Part It’s a paradoxical thing: a director keeping the camera on himself being a sign of generosity. (Another favorite moment: that shot of the back of Matthew Broderick’s head-you can feel his ears burning-as he walks away from being ridiculed by two stoned students in Margaret.) A stranger walking into a scene can be just a catalyst for action staying with him after his purpose has been exhausted suggests a recognition that there are other stories out there. In Lonergan’s movies, the world on the screen is always spilling over micro-stories and hinted-at lives branch out like tributaries from the main narrative.
GRANDPA DEFINE MONTAGE MOVIE
For a few more seconds, the movie cuts away from our protagonists and follows the stranger up the sidewalk as he takes a quick look back.
A passerby catches a whiff of the spat and blurts out, “Nice parenting.” Lee, who’s more than happy to throw down with anyone, almost gets into a fight with the stranger-played by Lonergan himself-but Patrick breaks them up and the man walks away. Adam Naymanīest Hitchcockian Cameo: Kenneth Lonergan in Manchester by the Seaĭeep into Kenneth Lonergan’s Manchester by the Sea, Casey Affleck’s Lee gets into an argument with his orphaned nephew, Patrick (Lucas Hedges), as they walk to the car. Is he trying to level the playing field between them, or is a relationship something that can only be entered with eyes wide shut? Or has he run out the back door and left her in the dark? The ambiguity here isn’t simply a matter of open-ended narrative gamesmanship, but the culmination of a movie that scuttles agilely and elusively between plausible pathology and stark, fable-like abstraction. Weisz’s character has already been blinded by anti-monogamy activists, and when Farrell excuses himself to use the washroom, we know it’s because he’s considering taking out his own eyes-a play on the idea that “love is blindness.” In Dogtooth, Lanthimos contrived a similar moment for the express purpose of depicting self-mutilation, but here he holds the camera on Weisz while we wonder what her partner is up to. To which I say, fair enough: like its namesake, The Lobster is so cold and spiky that it’s pretty hard to love, and yet no final scene this year left me feeling as complex a mix of emotions as Lanthimos’s finale, which finds lovers-on-the-run Colin Farrell and Rachel Weisz hiding out in a diner and planning their next move. Yorgos Lanthimos’s move into the international coproduction arena proved bitterly divisive among critics both when it bowed at Cannes in 2015 and during its theatrical release this year a few high-profile writers treated the film with the same abject, arbitrary cruelty that they perceived in its story of singletons signed up (or is it forced?) into elaborate mating rituals in an isolated hotel at the edge of a fairy-tale forest. Check it out on ESPN or Hulu or other channels for your television. This devastating television miniseries reminds you that history-personal or public-exists on a continuum.
GRANDPA DEFINE MONTAGE TRIAL
After watching this absolutely penetrating, perfectly structured episodic television study of this era-defining event, which passes from OJ’s childhood to his football and post-sports entertainment careers and on to, most extensively, the televised courtroom drama that became a part of nearly every American’s living room in the mid-nineties, any attentive viewer will no longer be able to think of the murder trial as a contained event with its own beginning and end.
This television show, nearly eight hours in length but made digestible for home viewing because it was divided into five segments of approximately ninety minutes each, is a marvel of editing and dialectical inquiry, endlessly searching yet confident that the indirect lines it’s drawing between the decades of racism and urban unrest in Los Angeles in the second half of the twentieth century and the lead-up and public response to the beloved African-American athlete’s acquittal in the murder of his long-abused wife will bear dramatic fruit.
GRANDPA DEFINE MONTAGE SERIES
This mesmerizing, multilayered production from ESPN for its 30 for 30 documentary series was a continually regenerative and revealing investigation into OJ Simpson as both man and symbol, while never losing sight of the larger societal and sociological forces that both created his public identity and conspired to allow him to get away with murder. Best ESPN Miniseries: OJ: Made in America
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