I had no expectations of the film Margaret, knowing nothing about the story-line or characters beforehand. I remembered some time into it that Anna Paquin had received plaudits for her performance at Sundance. And rightly so. It is a tour de force. She plays seventeen year old Lisa who is in every scene. Your response to her determines whether you like the film. Which is a challenge because Lisa is not a very likable character. Half way through I was really sick of her as she stormed her way through life upsetting everyone: her mother, the nice boy who helps with her maths and is keen on her, a sympathetic maths teacher, a policeman doing his job. Taking an aggressively simplistic anti-Muslim position in class debates in post September 11 New York. Having painfully hopeless telephone conversations with her father, living a new life without her in California. Planning and executing her first sexual experience. All in all behaving much as pampered, affluent teenagers all over the world behave. Trying to make sense of her world, but going about it like a bull at a gate, causing grief and confusion all around her. I was surprised I was so moved at the end, which is spare and low-key. And surprised at how the film has stayed with me afterwards. I find myself thinking of it often.
There is an accident, a death and a subsequent police investigation that provide a story-line and a ‘who dunnit’ element. But Lisa’s response – guilt, anger, obsession – all reinforce the film’s central interest. Which is to depict how adolescence is experienced. In a milieu that we don’t see often in films and for whom there is little sympathy – well-off, middle class kids. I loved the veracity of the domestic scenes. People coming and going, half listening to each other, concentrating on their own issues and concerns. And the tentativeness of parents trying to navigate relationships with teenagers. I don’t think the film, is critical of the mother for being too self-absorbed in her own career (as a stage actress). Lisa uses her mother’s worries about her work, and her personal relationships, as weapons against her attempts at connection. The absent, and therefore more comforting parent from Lisa’s point of view, father dithers about family holidays and doesn’t provide a convenient escape – that you know would not work anyway. Younger brother is barely registered beyond being an annoyance – as younger siblings are!
Exceptionally realistic school scenes could be taken from a ‘fly on the wall’ documentary. Gormless, well-meaning teachers. Uninformed students hiding anxieties under lack of interest. Matthew Broderick’s literature teacher desperately seeking responses from listless students to his beloved texts – only to be annoyed and autocratic when he gets a silly interpretation that doesn’t fit his world view. Eating a sandwich as he teaches. You see the kids contempt. The political debate is repeated – ramping up, passionate speeches but no persuasion, moderation, resolution. Lisa finally asked to leave when she won’t shut up. A potentially explosive interaction between Lisa and Matt Damon as her maths teacher is turned on its head, defying audience expectations. These pupil – teacher relationships illustrate the essential powerlessness of teenagers. Lisa is trying to manipulate to fit how she thinks they should go – but finds herself thwarted at every turn. As I said, I was surprisingly moved at the final scene.
And throughout I was wondering where the film’s title came from until I caught a reference to the name Margaret in a couple of lines of poem read to the students. Lines unheralded and seemingly unheeded. Here is the full poem – that explains it all:
Margaret are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow’s springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Margaret you mourn for.
(Gerard Manley Hopkins, Spring and Fall: to a young child)
– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Joe Burke says
What a lovely poem and engaging review! But younger siblings beware!
Margaret Blair Gannon says
I saw MARGARET today, day 1 of school holidays. It was the perfect way to start a break, a wonderfully absorbing film which set a very high standard for other offerings to be viewed in next 2 weeks.
I need to see this film again, Lisa was maddeningly irritating, usually the sign of fabulous acting.
Love your review.
Jenny Doran says
Thanks for that, despite being irritating you felt for her which is great acting.