Margaret

Do you guys know what I mean when I say it feels like a piece of art is physically grabbing you? Maybe violently? I kept looking at this in my watchlist and feeling sick about it and I didn’t know why; then I watched the trailer and felt sicker; tonight I tried to watch any movie but Margaret and ended up here anyway. This film is flawless, and gutting, and I feel horrible. I feel an appreciation for Kenneth Lonergan not just for making this but for feeling the need to make it—whatever the reason was. He gave the world two-and-a-half hours, a measly amount of time if you think about it, to explain the moment when a child becomes an adult. In a book report, Lisa witnessing the bus accident might seem like an obvious metaphor. But nothing about this is obvious; it’s honest. It feels so real that I might actually vomit. The way every shot is framed depending on the intimacy or distance of the scene, the beautiful acting, the music that is indescribably awfully wonderful—I feel absolutely terrible hearing it. I had a thought that the movie starts as a normal indie film about a teenager, but the second the bus accident happens, you live in the horror of it for the rest of the film. There were moments where I felt like I was Lisa, like I could hear her thoughts. Her desire for justice is so admirable, and she realizes by the end that she lives in an unjust world; bad things happen to good people. Monica will never get her life back. It’s as simple as that. Coming to terms with the grim realities in life is what makes teenagers into alcoholics and deadbeats, sure—but some of them also become actors in plays, mothers, fathers, teachers. She doesn’t know yet why to hang on, just that she has to. I have never been so sure of a five-star rating in my life. Someday I will have the courage to watch the three-hour cut, but right now I think I need to stare at my ceiling or something.