A dramatist must stick to his/her guns. There is a very blurry line between unnecessary antics and unwavering creative integrity. At the same time- very little stands between the well-intentioned lunatic (a creative refusing to compromise) and the sewage peddler (schlock droid that propels every film he or she makes to obscene profits). What stands between the two may be thin and transparent to the naked eye- but it is there- and it is important. It has something to do with personal integrity and a basic inability to fool oneself. The "Suffering Artist" mystique solicits both admiration and nausea (especially in the artist him/herself). But any artist must make things. There’s no inter-galactic enigma to it. The existential void can be filled by dramatization, reflection, interpretation, analysis and presentation. In a time where unforgivable trash is tossed off as high art (due to rapidly disappearing ethics, the curious blend of mostly slop with occasional inspiration in the corporate owned medias and instant gratification models that rot the curiosity/awe of each new generation)- the importance of genuine storytelling becomes beyond vital. We wonder when the machine will stop shoveling fecal matter at us. Give us the benefit of the doubt? When you repeatedly administer the exhausted mass sub-conscious toxins (awful, mindless, dangerously stupid movies marketed by profit hungry studios to oceans of heartbeats)- the mass sub-conscious becomes a worthless, self-hating group of weakened lab rats (today’s cinema-goers and malnourished, discouraged voters). Note to the industrial film model- gamble! Trust creativity once in awhile (like the American film zeitgeist of the 70’s- producing classic after classic.).
Writer-director Kenneth Lonergan’s enchanting Margaret is a sweeping, moving, deliberate film that demands spectator involvement (much like its endlessly needy protagonist). But- unlike the lead in Margaret (motivated by her own clumsy immaturity)- the movie possesses an unselfish driving force. Lonergan's writing says we don’t need to like Lisa (played by Anna Paquin) in order to appreciate the themes in his story (much like Martin Scorsese and Paul Schrader's 1980 explosion of cinematic force, Raging Bull- De Niro’s boxer, Jake La Motta, is very easy to dislike- but who cares?- the film is more than its characters.).
Margaret stars Anna Paquin in her best performance. Paquin is the 2nd youngest Oscar winner in history next to Tatum O'Neal (O'Neal won for 1973's Paper Moon and Paquin for 1993’s The Piano). Margaret also stars Mark Ruffalo, Matthew Broderick, J. Smith Cameron (Lonergan’s wife) and Jean Reno. Lonergan's movie was plagued with post-production delays and legal disputes before finally opening in movie houses last fall. No one went to see it. It had a 2nd run at theaters earlier this year. No one came to see it again. The film endured a troubled editing process. At one point Martin Scorsese assisted Lonergan with a cut (Scorsese correctly thought the movie carried tremendous merit).
Recently released on home video- I saw a 186 minute extended version of Margaret with a sold out crowd at the Los Angeles County Museum of Art. The cut is available as part of a new two disc Blu-ray/DVD set along with the 149 minute theatrical version. The extended cut is fascinating cinema with passionate acting, refined direction, wonderful music and original dialogue (Lonergan’s screenwriting pen reflects the able playwright he is).
37 extra minutes makes the extended cut quite different; though the central story remains. Paquin's Lisa struggles with guilt regarding her role in a terrible bus accident that results in the death of a stranger (Allison Janey). The entire film is framed around the incident and its repercussions.
The theatrical version is more conventional and tightly wound as Lisa meddles in the lives of various characters- attempting to face her part in the tragedy. The longer cut is an eccentric coming-of-age fable about a young girl trying to connect with anyone who may understand her plight. She slowly realizes the world consists of more than just her motivations and concerns. Margaret operates on numerous complex frequencies. It’s ambitious, wholly sincere and it creates earned dramatic tension. The tragedy serves as a catalyst for issues generally swept under societal rugs (precisely why the film was sabotaged from its inception to its first theatrical release).
There are scenes in the extended cut unseen in the theatrical version (a visit to an abortion clinic among them). The extended cut amps up the sound design in background conversations (reminiscent of Robert Altman’s movies) to further illustrate the heartbeats around Lisa- all helplessly consumed by their own dramas- however trivial or substantial. The striking thing about the extended version of Margaret is the awareness that you’re seeing a film as intended by its creator- a phenomenon that oughtta' be more widespread. Why the man who made 2000’s You Can Count On Me (Lonergan’s not-to-be-missed drama about a brother and sister relationship- starring Mark Ruffalo and Laura Linney)- why anyone doubted his 2nd feature film as writer and director is baffling to me. Margaret is a bold film.
With superb photography by Ryszard Lenczewski and terrific performances worth mentioning by Jeannie Berlin (Lisa’s ally and/a friend of the bus accident victim) and Kieran Culkin (one of Lisa’s clumsy love interests).
The film’s title is a reference to a Victorian poem by Gerard Manley Hopkins called Spring and Fall- “It is the blight man was born for- it is Margaret you mourn for."