The glory of those Gene Kelly musicals—you know, Singin’ in the Rain, An American in Paris—is the ease with which Kelly, and everyone else, for that matter, did incredibly difficult things. It never, ever looked like they were trying.
A funny thing about grief is how much time you spend wondering if you’re doing it right, and how much time you spend around other people who are wondering the same thing. Manchester by the Sea absolutely nails the confusion, frustration, and awkward weirdness that comes along with dealing with the untimely death of a loved one, maybe better than any movie I’ve ever seen.
The first few shots of Nocturnal Animals—I’m not going to tell you what they are—made me think we were in for a really grimy trash-fest, on the level of a much more serious version of John Waters. And this excited me. I love good trash.
There’s a moment fairly early on in The Edge of Seventeen when Nadine (Hailee Steinfeld), angry with her friend, takes off her shoe and throws it at the wall of a burger joint. It’s a strange thing to do, and it’s one of those scenes that bothers me in movies—no one in real life takes off their shoe and throws it at the wall in a burger joint. It’s just a bit too scripted.