MASS

Directing: A-
Acting: A
Writing: A
Cinematography: B
Editing: B+

One of the many amazing things about Mass is among the most surprising, in that is is neither adapted from a play, nor was it shot during any COVID lockdowns—and yet, it would be easy to assume one or the other, or both: a good eighty percent of the film takes place in one room in the back of a small neighborhood church, only four people ever onscreen, having very heavy and difficult conversation, shot in real time.

The only other people ever even seen onscreen are the two employees of the church that is hosting this meeting, and the social worker who has brokered the meeting. This movie has all of seven speaking parts. For most of its 111-minute runtime, there are only four.

This would make a great “secret screening” at film festivals, where people walk in truly and completely blind. I’d love to tell you right now: just go see this movie. Don’t find out anything about it at all, just sit down and watch it. Except that this is a review, and by definition I have to tell you something.

Besides, some people might like some fair warning, because this is some heavy shit. Expertly directed and brilliantly acted, heavy shit. Martha Plimpton and Jason Isaacs are the parents of a teenage son who was killed six years ago in a high school mass shooting incident (hence the title). Ann Dowd and Reed Birney are the parents of the teenage boy who perpetrated the shooting, killing ten others and then himself. The parents of the victim, who have been in regular correspondence over time in spite of other parents filing lawsuits in which these two never wanted to participate, have requested this meeting with the parents of the perpetrator, in hopes of achieving some kind of closure.

Mass, then, is an impressively realized, unique examination of, not just grief, but grief in many forms. There is much to be said about the demonization of the parents of a child murderer, and writer-director Fran Kranz gets deep into it. Kranz is a guy with 74 acting credits, and that Mass is his directorial debut is truly stunning.

He’s also provided a film that is deeply deserving of awards recognition, and I fear it will get none, because of its very difficult subject matter. I can tell you to watch this all I want, but if you don’t want to go through multiple emotional gut punches you’re not going to want to. The young woman welcoming these two couples into her church provides a box of tissue in this nondescript room, and tissues should be provided at every seat in the theater. Okay, so, realistically, the vast majority of the people who actually do watch this movie will do so later in their homes. So, just be sure to keep the Kleenex handy.

Incidentally, I still found the theatrical experience of this film enhanced it. For all intents and purposes, it’s like just watching a play, but miraculously, it’s well presented onscreen, and never feels like the clunky movie most stage adaptations end up being. You’re too absorbed in their conversation to care. And in a movie theater, that’s the only place where complete immersion is possible. Even though it’s several minutes into the movie before the two couples actually meet and sit down at this generic round banquet table, and another several minutes after they begin talking in private that the conversation makes clear how these two couples are connected.

All four of the principal actors are phenomenal, but I only want to single out Ann Dowd in that she so often plays women who walk a fine line between warm and creepy, it’s nice to see her here playing a woman who, but for the fact that her son killed ten people in cold blood, is so . . . normal. She really feels like a nice old lady you might encounter at the church down the road. All of them do, really. All of these characters are ordinary people who extraordinarily terrible circumstances thrust upon them. And, in terms of performance, all four of them get multiple moments to shine. Reed Birney, the least well known of the four actors, is also the least showy, but his restraint and subtlety is just as impressive.

Kranz’s writing is also exquisite. By definition with a presentation like this, there has to be a great deal of exposition—the whole movie is nothing but dialogue. It never feels like exposition, though, and a vast array of details are revealed to the story of how they all got here, just through the organic unfolding of their gut wrenching, yet riveting conversations. There’s no getting around the fact that Mass, as an incisively indirect examination of gun violence in America, is in no way fun, but there’s also no escaping the fact that it’s easily one of the best films of the year. I just hope enough people see it to give it the attention it deserves.

This is literally the entire movie, and it’s still great.

Overall: A-