Mass

 3.5/4

Starring: Jason Isaacs, Martha Plimpton, Ann Dowd, Reed Birney

Rated PG-13 for Thematic Content and Brief Strong Language

There is something that no one but those who have experienced tragedy firsthand will be able to understand: you don't "get over it."  You're never able to put it behind you.  Therapy and time help, but only in the sense that you learn how to manage the pain.  It never goes away.

"Mass" is one of the most painful movies I've seen in a long, long time.  It's so difficult to watch that most people will not be able to endure it.  It is painful because it understands that some wounds never heal.  No matter what you do or how long time passes, the scars remain.  Everyone has their own defenses to help them cope: reframing the trauma in some sense, denial, willful ignorance.  Or turning the perpetrator, or those close to them, into monsters.

Six years ago, Hayden murdered ten of his fellow students and a teacher before walking to the library and turning his gun on himself.  One of the victims was Evan, and neither of his parents, Jay (Isaacs) or Gail (Plimpton) have recovered that well.  After all the legal messes, the press field days and the memorials, the wounds are as raw as ever.  In an attempt at healing, their therapist has arranged for them to talk with Hayden's parents, Linda (Dowd) and Richard (Birney).

The obvious question here is this: what do Jay and Gail hope to achieve here?  Closure, certainly.  But do either of them think that meeting the parents of the boy who murdered their son will change anything?  Will it provide them the answers that they are looking for?  Hope may spring eternal, but do either of them truly think that this is healthy or even sane?  Or do they need to confirm for themselves that, by being Hayden's parents, they are as monstrous as his actions were that fateful day.  Casting someone as a villain is, at least initially, healing.  It makes unspeakable tragedy easier to take.  But what happens when such personae are challenged?

As simple as this situation may seem at the outset, it is in reality anything but that.  Guilt or innocence are meaningless, and no one has just one motive.  Jay, for instance, wants revenge.  He wants to know that Richard and Linda, whom he has convinced himself are villains with the blackest of hearts, have suffered as much as he has.  He won't rest until he has heard it, from them, that they knew Hayden was dangerous and they did nothing.  For her part, Gail is still stricken with grief; she can't move on.  As much as the memory of her son's death hurts her, she clings to it.  It sounds bizarre to a normal person, but those who have been through trauma will understand it completely.

Linda and Richard are hurting too, which Jay and Gail don't realize.  Or they have deceived themselves into believing that they feel nothing in regards to their son's actions.  Richard is still in legal mode; his statements, which seem to have been written by a lawyer and have come from his mouth so many times that they have become second nature, are an armor against acknowledging first hand what his son did.  But sooner or later the facade will crack.  Linda, oddly enough, probably the most healthy.  She is made peace with what happened, but that doesn't make dealing with it intimately any easier.

Fran Kranz, who wrote and directed this movie, takes his time.  He makes the brilliant decision to hold off on the meeting (the principals don't meet until the movie is twenty minutes in).  In lesser hands it may have been time wasted, but it's actually an asset.  He knows that he is going to address difficult material and by showing the preparations for the meeting, he is allowing the audience to mentally prepare for what is to come.  It also allows him to ratchet up the tension and dread; by the time the four people sit down to talk, the suspense is unbearable.

For his cast, Kranz relied on character actors rather than big stars (no doubt the film's slim budget had something to do with this).  That's the correct choice.  For this film to work, we need to see Jay, Gail, Linda and Richard as people we could meet in our neighborhood.  As marvelous as, say, Sean Penn and Meryl Streep would be in these roles, their star power would have overshadowed their characters.  The biggest name in the movie is Jason Isaacs, who is so non-actor-ish here that one might forget that it's him. Each of them gives an Oscar-caliber performance (none were nominated, although Dowd was nominated for a BAFTA).  Isaacs in particular was robbed; the scene where he describes the crime in detail is almost impossible to watch.

"Mass" is absolutely riveting.  It pins you to your seat and doesn't let go.  You literally can't turn away.  Unfortunately, Kranz misjudges the ending.  It's tough to describe how he goes wrong without going into spoiler territory, so I'll be vague.  Kranz gives the film an ending to suit his thesis, but it doesn't feel earned.  How the film arrives at its ending feels artificial.  Satisfying, sure.  But dishonest.  A movie this brutally honest should at least know that what happens wouldn't come as easily as it does.

Some movies are made for entertainment value.  This isn't one of them.  The script is so penetrating and the performances are so powerful that it becomes a visceral experience.  We feel like we are in the room with these people.  I would put it in the same category as "Grave of the Fireflies" or "The War Zone."  Watching it is not something to be undertaken lightly.   But for those who do see it, it is not easily shaken.