Manchester by the Sea was one that scarred me for life. I could not understand what all the hoopla was about it.
Manchester by the Sea and other bleak movies don't usually scar me for life, but they do scar me for a few days.
In some cases, I can understand the hoopla even if I wished I hadn't seen the movie.
Leaving Las Vegas, for example, is very well made. So is
Requiem for a Dream. But after I saw them, I wished I hadn't. Still, some people -- including my son -- don't mind bleakness in movies at all.
About 20 years ago (after seeing
Affliction with Nick Nolte), I realized I just don't want to see bleak movies, however well regarded. Occasionally I'm not sufficiently forewarned, but generally I try to keep an eye out for them and stay away. Most recently,
The Joker. Some directors I know to avoid, such as Lars von Trier.
Speaking of bleakness and, ostensibly, the
New Yorker, Atul Gawande's piece a couple of issues ago about deaths of despair is, in a way, well timed. I'm sure it was written before the pandemic hit this country, but I'm sure the pandemic will cause deaths of despair to skyrocket. There's a story in the paper today about a doctor who, with no history of mental illness, killed herself after working in ERs in NYC.
For a safe light but critically acclaimed viewing, you can't go too wrong with Wes Anderson.