“Manchester By the Sea” is the reason people keep going to the movies. Because, despite all the crummy ones, there’s always the chance you’ll stumble across one like this – a movie so powerful, so beautifully done on just about every level, that it’s instantly etched in your memory. And your heart.
Few movies can handle that delicate juggling act in which profound grief alternates with wickedly well-observed humor. Don’t get me wrong. “Manchester” is, ultimately, a picture riddled with sorrow and unspeakable tragedy. Yet it is also oddly optimistic. A newborn cries at a funeral service – a birth astride a grave, as Beckett would’ve said.