Mass, or Wherein I Wax Rhapsodic about a Heavy Film

I went to see the film Mass yesterday. I haven’t been able to get it out of my mind. 

I cheerfully admit that I initially wanted to see it just because Jason Isaacs is in it. I’d watch literally anything he’s in. I was excited to get to see this because it was a Sundance Film Festival movie and who actually sees those? But it got a limited distribution in select cinemas (and hopefully will eventually be available to buy). I got a ticket as soon as it was released in the one cinema that was showing it in AZ.

You guys. This movie made me cry. In public. It’s possible there was snot involved and an audible sob or two. These things are not done in my family. Don’t make a spectacle. But I kind of did. If anyone can watch this without being moved to tears, they’re a heartless monster and I feel genuine pity for them.

The premise of the film is that, six years earlier, there was a mass shooting at a school. Two couples whose children died that day met to talk. One couple’s son was the first victim found by the police. The other couple’s son was the shooter. The entire film took place in a single room that had been set up in a church specifically for the couples to meet.

The performances that followed from all four actors were nothing short of astonishing. 

Jay and Gail (played by Jason Isaacs and Martha Plimpton, respectively) lost their son when he was killed by the son of Linda and Richard (played by Ann Dowd and Reed Birney, respectively). I hope I never, ever have first hand knowledge of this, but Jason and Martha nailed the portrayal of grieving and furious parents. They had a whole backstory that Jay had become an activist for gun reform, which totally makes sense. But prior to meeting with Linda and Richard, they had agreed not to bring any of his activism up, not to be political, and not to interrogate Linda and Richard. At one point, Gail shot Jay what can only be called A Look that screamed “stop talking, Jay!” and he instantly shut up. At other times, one or the other would give a different Look, or lay a hand on the other’s arm, or shift in their chair, and it communicated exactly what was needed at that moment. It was as though the actors actually were a couple and had a long history behind them and could exchange a world of words with a glance. It felt voyeuristic, like we were sneaking peeks at a therapy session. It was something terribly intimate and painful and improper to witness, and yet that was the whole point.

I really loved the way Jason and Martha showed the rage, indignation, and helpless despair and grief their characters must have dealt with. The body language was complex and nuanced. Every little flinch, crossing of arms, side glance meant something and added to the overall story. I thought Martha especially did a phenomenal job here. Initially Gail was stiff, as though coming close to Linda and Richard or making a gesture of civility was physically painful. She hesitated and didn’t seem to want to move within a certain distance of them as though proximity to them was unbearable, but just as clearly drew some strength from Jay’s nearness. 

I should note here, perhaps, that when it comes to movies, I tend to be a fairly shallow viewer. I can analyse the shit out of any book you put in front of me, but I have never done so with movies. I just want to be entertained in some way without too much thought. It is a testament to how good these actors are that I even noticed their body language. 

Speaking of body language. I fully expected to empathize with Gail and Jay. But I was in no way prepared to sympathize with the shooter’s parents! I think the assumption is usually that the parents are always to blame and they don’t deserve sympathy; after all, they raised a monster that slaughtered his classmates. They must be just as fucked up, or totally lacking in human decency, or have something wrong with them to have spawned a school shooter. We always need someone to blame. But both of them, especially Linda, exuded a deep sense of shame and guilt regarding their son’s actions, as well as defensiveness when they felt they needed to explain their or their son’s actions. It was clear that, despite everything he did, they loved their son and missed him, and also that they felt guilty for acknowledging that love in front of parents whose child their son murdered. They were a pretty normal couple raising their kids in a normal way. They made mistakes like we all do, only theirs ended up costing a bunch of kids their lives when they failed to see how badly their kid needed help. They weren’t abusive, they weren’t absent, they weren’t whores or mob bosses or anything. They were regular people who had a horrible son and they missed some things and a tragedy happened. Ann and Reed both portrayed their characters with sensitivity and depth that made them human and believable, despite their son. I didn’t expect to feel bad for them but I did, and I’m still not sure how I feel about that.

I also really liked that the film wasn’t political. It so easily could have been. I think it just heightened the commentary underlying the story – that we are a profoundly sick society and there is no one simple way to go about healing us. The apolitical nature will hopefully get other people to watch who may otherwise have been turned off by the topic. This is a good thing because I think everyone should see this film and see real ways in which gun violence affects people without having an agenda shoved down their throats. 

The only thing I didn’t like was that a couple times the scene shifted to an empty field with barbed wire and a red ribbon caught on it. I could go on for days about the symbolism inherent in that if I had to. But really all it did was break up a couple exceptionally emotional scenes and drew me out of the film rather abruptly. I think that was a bad idea on the director’s part and leaving the weird symbolic woo stuff out would have better allowed the audience to remain in that moment with Jay and Gail, Linda and Richard. They cannot escape their emotions; the audience shouldn’t get to, either. We should go on this small part of the journey with them.

There is so much more I could say about this movie. I know I’ll see something new every time I watch it, assuming that I’ll be able to buy it eventually. I truly believe this is a film that everyone should see, in particular every single elected official. 

But my ultimate conclusion is this: 

If all four of these actors don’t get Academy Awards for their truly gut wrenching, evocative, and superlative acting, then the Academy has utterly failed and is deeply, irretrievably fucked. These amazing humans turned out absolutely stunning, career-highlight performances and they deserve every accolade they can get. 

Big Sky

Big Sky by Kate Atkinson (Website)

Genre: mystery

Setting: mostly a seaside town in the north of England

I read it as a(n): audiobook

Narrator: Jason Isaacs

Source: My own Audible collection

Length: 11:22:00

Published by: Hachette Audio (25 June 2019)

Her Grace’s rating: 3 out of 5 stars

I’m giving this 3 out of 5 stars only because Jason Isaacs’s narration was superb. The story itself was kind of boring. As with the rest of the books in Atkinson’s Jackson Brodie series, Big Sky starts with Jackson working on a case, this time staking out a couple to provide proof of their infidelity to his client. Then, showing the kind of weird luck only Jackson seems capable of, he encounters a man on a crumbling cliff and gets sucked into a ring of sex trafficking and kidnapping. Of course, the only person who can solve things and fix it is Jackson.

If he weren’t so sexy, Jackson Brodie would be really fucking annoying. The whole trope of “only I can solve this” was old to begin with, and now it has been pretty much ruined by the Lobotomized Hitler currently squatting in the White House, and it’s a pretty arrogant thing to think regardless of who is saying it. 

It was nice to see Reggie come back in this story. Last we saw of her, she was a lost and scared young lady trying to get by mostly on her own. It was fun to see her in this story and see what she’s made of herself. Other than Reggie and Jackson, sometimes, I really found not one likeable character in this story. The traffickers of course were revolting, but Julia is a shallow twit, Nathan is a typical teen and no one really likes those, and most of the others were pretty one-dimensional. The plot itself wasn’t terribly compelling to me, and Atkinson’s style of writing is so nonlinear that listening to this as opposed to eyeball reading it was a chore. I found myself not listening to it as often as not, and only kept going by pure virtue of Jason Isaacs’s sexy voice and skill in narrating. I really wish he would narrate more audiobooks. He’s one of my very favorite narrators, and it isn’t just because he’s my mega celebrity crush. He is a genuinely excellent narrator, able to do a variety of accents well, and even reading women’s voices nicely. I hate it when male narrators do a falsetto for women, or make them sound like brainless morons. Like, what women do you know who really sounds like that? Isaacs does nothing of the sort and all his voices are authentic and believable. I just really wish Audible could/would make more use of his voice talent.