I usually realize how good a movie is, how much I can do missionary work for myself, I can not hold back, I want to rave about it, but at the same time want to tell as little as possible, so that my counterpart has a comparable experience. A sometimes almost unbearable contradiction and quite pubescent. Kenneth Lonergan’s Manchester by the Sea was one of the worst films.
The longer my visual impression lingered, the more I felt the need to bring him, like the true gospel, to every human being who crossed my path and wanted to talk to me about movies. When Lonergan’s film was just outstripped by Barry Jenkins Moonlight’s Golden Globes award in the Best Drama category, it struck me like a punch in the stomach.