A slow and awkward buildup precipitates the barrage of emotional bullets that are sure to pierce. It's not as hard of a film to watch as one might expect, but it is a trying and cutting journey on the double edged sword of pain that is the lonely search for truth of the parents of a mass shooting. Our sojourners on this grinding wheel of confounding agony expertly express their sorrow and sympathy. It’s an impassioned and promising effort from fledgling writer/director Fran Kranz and his talented actors.
It’s hard to choose who controls the big screen the most. Reed Birney, Ann Dowd, Jason Isaacs and Martha Plimpton are all tremendous. If I had to pick a dramatic moment, it would probably be Isaacs ardent heartsickness shared with his wife & the group. But the ensemble pour forth their souls at the altar of loss, remembrance, and the strive to understand.
The screenplay and direction are quite modest and unadorned. Theoretically capably serviceable as a stage production, it is minimal and svelte. Its unadornedness lets its few visual flourishes stick out, for better and worse. Kranz does let his crown jewel shine; his actors own the screen and our communion.
Mass is quiet and deals with difficult subject matter, but its insightful and poignant. The emotional wealth and reflective exploration makes me interested to see what Mr. Kranz does next.
