On ‘Manchester by the Sea’ and Grief

I found my ticket stub from the very first time I saw this film — alone, on a Tuesday evening in NYC at 8pm, two days after a devastating and life-changing breakup. 

It’s hard to explain the visceral reaction I had to seeing Lee Chandler’s depression in that inaugural viewing. Certainly, my immediate attachment to this film was colored by my own recent heartbreak, which seems silly today considering the chasm of difference between a tough breakup and the circumstances surrounding Lee’s grief. And yet, often breakups do feel like the end of the world — as I recall, it was impossible in that first month to separate any facet of my day-to-day life from this seemingly cataclysmic occurrence. 

Enter: Manchester by the Sea at one of the most vulnerable moments of my life. Almost immediately, I clung to Casey Affleck’s empty demeanor, his soft voice, his inability to meet anyone’s gaze. 

The magic of the theater experience cannot be ignored — here was depression not just played out for me but blown up, huge, physically taking up my entire frame of vision for two and a half hours. 

And then the pivotal line — the line which has always elevated this movie above all others for me — “I can’t beat it. I just can’t.”

The devastation that I felt, sitting alone in that theater, upon hearing that, is unquantifiable. At once I wondered about the lasting effects of this breakup, but just as quickly I thought instead to my father, who’s abandonment and my subsequent inability to deal with that had no doubt played a part in the erosion of my now deceased romantic relationship. When it came to the deep-seated issues associated with my father, I wondered, frightened as all hell, could I beat it? Or would I be Lee Chandler, years and years from now, defeated by own grief?

The present day answers to those questions matter less than the fact that the movie had me asking them. Film — dare I say ~cinema~ — has this power over us, all of us, and how beautiful is that? 

I’m so glad I found this ticket stub and reflected here a bit. I have a hard time explaining sometimes why Manchester by the Sea is my favorite movie of all time. This small introspective journey will help.

(This reminiscing has reminded me that I saw La La Land only a week or so later — boy, that ending was a whopper, considering. That final stretch of movies in 2016 was sure something.)