Mystic River

an email to a friend who’d seen it already:

I saw Mystic River with my mom last week in New York. Ohh, I loved it. I see what you mean about the ending. I don’t usually like endings like that- as I’ve mentioned- endings in the tradition of The Usual Suspects and Fight Club– but somehow this one struck me differently. It intrigued me more than anything. Especially when my mom- who’d read the book- told me that there was more foreshadowing in the book than they showed on screen (not surprisingly). Now, I just want to read the book.

The main things I dug about the film were the performances (of course! I’m a die-hard fan of two of the four leads, and a normal fan of the other two). And, of course, it made me nostalgic. Not only has that particular culture been sporadically a part of my childhood, it also dreadfully intrigues me. And being away from it for as long as I have- and away from New England- it gave me a new appreciation for it, to the point where I was almost romanticizing it.

I thought about it for days afterward. I love it when movies do that to me. The last film that did that (to that extent) was The Magdalene Sisters, and before that it was too long to remember. I kept wanting to know more about the story, the characters, everything, you know? Which is why I can’t wait to read the book.

The most powerful films are those that that I watch and that satisfy me, and those that leave me almost empty, wanting more. Mystic River fell into the latter category- I wanted it to go on, regardless of its two-plus hour length. Yea, I’m sure it was largely the performances. I could watch Tim Robbins and Sean Pean all day long and never tire- only want more! And be satisfied. It’s all of it, I guess.

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