Had we not had such a connection to Boston, I am not sure we
would have gone to see “Patriots Day,” the movie that tells the story of the 2013
Boston Marathon Bombing. Every American knows how this story ends. But it turns
out that the movie seems to be the least popular with what would seem to be the
key target audience: Bostonians themselves. Even for people who did not personally
know any of the victims, Boston is a small enough city that its citizens feel a
natural connection with each other. The local television stations spoke of
little else during the days and weeks following the attack, so most Bostonians
are extremely well versed in the details of the victims and the efforts to
identify and apprehend the perpetrators. Hence it is no surprise that the movie
has not been especially well received in the Boston area. In fact, the New York
Times published a laundry list of the factual errors that are really gnawing at
Bostonians who have seen the film. You can read that here:
Having said that, and recognizing that it was not entirely
historically accurate, the filmmakers did a pretty good job of capturing this
horrifying event without falling into the usual pitfalls of being either
excessively maudlin or sappily sweet. We do see the young man who went on to
complete the Boston Marathon this year with a prosthetic leg, but there is
certainly no suggestion that his life or the lives of any of the victims and
their families will simply go on happily ever after.
We also went to see the movie “Moonlight.” I sat down to start writing about it and thought I would take a look at the review in the New York Times. My favorite reviewer, A.O. Scott wrote this one, and I was stunned as I read the first paragraph that said, far more eloquently than I ever could, exactly what I had said to Barry in the car on the way home:
To describe “Moonlight,” Barry Jenkins’s second feature, as a movie about growing up poor, black and gay would be accurate enough. It would also not be wrong to call it a movie about drug abuse, mass incarceration and school violence. But those classifications are also inadequate, so much as to be downright misleading. It would be truer to the mood and spirit of this breathtaking film to say that it’s about teaching a child to swim, about cooking a meal for an old friend, about the feeling of sand on skin and the sound of waves on a darkened beach, about first kisses and lingering regrets… “Moonlight” is both a disarmingly, at times almost unbearably personal film and an urgent social document, a hard look at American reality and a poem written in light, music and vivid human faces.
The movie follows the life of Chiron in three chapters, the first as a young boy, the second as a teenager, and the third as an adult. It is not easy to watch. Chiron’s mother is a drug addict and there is no father around. His quiet personality simply does not earn him points in the environment in which he has to make his way largely on his own. The only person who seems to be a somewhat positive influence on him is a local drug dealer, Juan. Juan and his girlfriend, who live in a neat and clean house that is in stark contrast to Chiron’s home, become sort of surrogate parents for Chiron. Still, it is no surprise that Chiron eventually realizes that Juan is providing drugs to his mother, and Chiron himself eventually ends up in trouble with the law.
I think I am ready for a good comedy right now!
Love,
Rebecca
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