Manchester by the Sea ★★★

You throw the first sucker punch, wishing the return blow would end your life right there, flat on your back in the middle of the ground. You can’t beat grief like how I can’t beat the coldness of Manchester By the Sea. The distance between Lee and me might just be too far apart, whose soul is buried beneath the glacier while I'm a witness standing further away, watching it. There’s nothing there as the land has become barren. The sea clambers and crashes against the shore: calm & ruthless both at the same time. The frozen food falling out of the freezer is a gut-punch horror in disguise despite having some dry humor deployed sporadically. Lee stoically walks through life with an unfixed heart that crumbles piece-by-piece once the waves start taking over. I was caught staring at the abyss of water around me, like Casey Affleck’s character, emotionally removed from this dying world – one that does not wallow in maudlin sadness but rather suffocate in silence. Forgiveness is not accepted, Lee doesn’t change nor does he want to change. By giving away the chance of redemption, of coming back for a healing lunch, his soul is now as empty as the spiritless sky and the featureless water in front of him. The moment of catharsis that I yearned for eventually did not happen and so the unmoved, unthawed icebox of misery had left me numb.