Mitch Stephens

I recall as a teen watching “My Dinner with Andre,” a movie set at a restaurant, simply a conversation between two people. The entire 105 minutes - a preposterous concept but pulled off brilliantly primarily by the words and performance of Andre Gregory and Wallace Shawn. The topic of that was much lighter than “Mass,” a more philosophical look at life and art, but held me spellbound by words. Thoughts. Feelings. Passions. Story telling. No action. No violence. No guns, car chases, sex or explosions. “Mass” was similar in that 80 percent - the heart and center - of this masterpiece was in a room, a nondescript church office where four people engage in a gripping, explosive, pent up, tense, terce, bitter, enraged, controlled real exchange of every human emotion. It’s released months, perhaps even years after one of the the world’s most heinous, unthinkable, unimaginable and gut-wrenching crime, a mass killing carried out at an American high school. The parents of one of the victims meet face-to-face with the parents of the shooter, a fellow student. Unlike My Dinner with Andre, there is nothing soft or light-hearted or artsy about this two-hour plus gut-wrencher. The dialogue is expert, the performances all spot on and brilliant. Academy worthy in fact. An unforgettable experience to consider all sides of the unfathomable. So many brilliant thoughts, words and emotions to breakdown the unspeakable. A truly ambitious project and topic, pulled off with at first restraint, then rage and ultimately humanity. A box of Kleenex is at the center point of the church office and I would advice one for the middle of your living room, theater row or wherever you watch this beautifully written and acted piece of cinema.