There
is some sort of subconscious expectation one must acknowledge when one watches
a film that has received an Oscar for Best Picture (and Best Original
Screenplay…and three Golden Globes.) Spotlight had a lot of what I expected,
and was missing a lot of what I expected. When a film focuses on a heart -wrenching, but true story, it will naturally be emotionally demanding and manipulative of the viewer, and I fear this film used its frankly horrifying facts as a crutch. Spotlight is about the Boston Globe's Spotlight investigative team exposing the repeated molestation of young children by priests - and the Catholic Church's cover-up of this blatantly criminal behavior. Aaaaaaand that’s about it.
Because
of its Oscar for Best Picture, I expected Spotlight to have emotional peaks and
valleys. I expected the characters uncovering this oh-so-painful story and
truth to be internally tormented in a way I can only imagine the real
journalists were. I thought the film would be an emotional rollercoaster for
viewers sheepishly peeking through covered eyes. Instead, this cringe-worthy, truthful, real plot drove the entire vehicle. Here’s how I see it: journalists
decide to investigate a story the modern viewer is painfully aware of. They
slowly uncover more and more blasphemous sins “The Church” has made, but only just
as we are expecting them. Where you anticipate them to find more people were
involved, they uncover THERE WERE. Then you expect them to learn of the
subsequent cover-ups, and THERE THEY ARE. Then you presume there will be
meetings with victims, and THERE ARE. I’m afraid the viewer is one step ahead
of the journalists throughout the story, and I feel this is a negative aspect of the movie. Even though this makes the film a bit too predictable, it does lead
its viewers on a similar journey to what the real journalists went through: their horror in their hunches being unpleasantly correct. This does not reduce
the tenderness of the overall plot – no, quite the contrary. This film thrives
solely on its narrative. The story is so distressingly true, a watcher can’t
help but be hypnotized in his dread – surely mirroring what the actual
journalists of the time felt.
Here’s
my problem. As the story was so pushed by plot and truth, the characters of the journalists as written in the script lacked
emotional connection. Even in a minute moment of reflection, Rachel McAdams’
character seemed to half-smirk as she commented on what a ‘shitty feeling’ the
journalists would get as they uncovered the story. (Was that just me? Ok, just
me.) It was as if there was no time to see what one of the reporters was truly
feeling during the heartache. I would have LOVED to see a shot of a reporter
silently sobbing – trying their best to manage the overspill of emotion they
surely suppressed while fulfilling their objective civic duty in uncovering one
of the biggest media stories of all time. Can you imagine the anguish??? I
don’t feel it was displayed properly. Or at all, even. Heart was lacking in
this film. The journalists weren’t as nearly emotionally connected as I wanted
them to be as they slowly drew the veil off of the nefarious reality.
Those
painful moments did exist briefly; as reporters interviewed victims, there were
mini peaks of emotion shown through minor characters' performances. But as soon
as the character reopened the wound, the scene closed it off again. I wanted to
see more pain. I love tragedy in film, and I wanted my heart to break into a
thousand pieces from this film. I wanted to cry, and they never quite brought
me there. And this is a story where it would not have been hard to do that!!
The hurt was hushed here, and it should have been plastered across digital
sprockets for all to see and feel.
Not all the performances lacked depth; Liev
Schreiber stands out as Marty Baron - newly appointed Editor in Chief of the
Boston Globe, who also happens to be Jewish (– this point could have been
exploited, and I’m glad it wasn’t.) His poise and mastery of Marty’s new work role
is downright commanding, and he manages to turn a character with not much persona,
background, or lines into a mesmerizing display. Stanley Tucci excels as
Mitchell Garabedian - a lawyer for the sexual abuse victims. His interactions with
Mark Ruffalo’s supposedly exact impersonation of Michael Rezendes are
enthralling and breathtaking; as the two characters interact, much of the plot
turns between them. Sooooo even though the existing footage may not reflect it
properly, per se, I took acting very seriously in high school. I went to a
dozen plus theater conventions where we did workshops and classes in things
like stage combat, playwriting, and character composing. Here’s my problem. I
get what Mark was doing, I really do. I’ve been there. I understand wholly
consuming a persona and mentality that emits from every pore. But. BUT. If I
were directing this film, I would have told Mark to take it down a notch. I
will say he has a better time in the second act than the first, but in the
first act it just feels so…..contrived….to me. My husband tells me Ruffalo met
with the real Michael Rezendes, so one can surmise he portrays the character
expertly. And that is fine. But. BUT. Where the rest of the ensemble cast
resides on the spectrum of acting, Mark drives his character to the extreme.
His physicality is certainly attaining something, but it’s my personal opinion
he takes it a bit too far. It’s almost distractingly different from the rest of
the cast, and not in a good way. Rachel McAdams also does a good job as
journalist Sacha Pfeiffer – she practices restraint where Ruffalo does not, but
McAdams was a victim of the script – never truly given a chance to stretch in
poignant emotional peaks.
I
get why this film has garnered its ornaments. When you write a script about the
uncovering of the Catholic Church and world’s biggest and most shocking sexual
scandal, you’re setting yourself up for a lot of attention and scrutiny. When your
script gets picked up by a not quite top tier but notable production company,
you’re posing for Academy creds. If the film was based on any other subject, it
would not have won Best Picture…..yeeeeaaahhh, I’m gonna stand by that
statement. As I remember The Oscars airing, it was a shock and possible upset
compared to the other contenders – The Revenant, Room, Bridge of Spies,
Brooklyn, The Big Short, The Martian, Mad Max: Fury Road……..I
meeeeaaaaannnnnn………..
Listen,
if you want a beautiful film about a Bostonian and a true, sickening tale of
sexual abuse that has heart, politics, humor, and integrity, watch Barry
Crimmins in the documentary Call Me Lucky.
