Good start, but then it gets ruined

An action-packed slog

Absolutely brilliant

It is a whirlwind of delight --- attractive actors, stunning couture, spectacular sets and outrageous parties.

Between the end of principal photography and a final, minuscule theatrical release hastily shoved out of sight, two of Margaret's producers actually passed away. That's how long Kenneth Lonergan's sophomore effort languished in post-production hell. It's not hard to spot the half-decade anachronisms when they surface. The New York of 2005's Margaret is thick with post-9/11 malaise, where everyday anxieties become magnified in the wake of tragedy, and in which throwaway comments conjure a whirlwind of spiteful accusations, finger pointing and immediate partisan defences. Yet even with the sharp performances of Lisa's politically-inclined classmates, and the refreshing change of pace to see high schoolers not solely depicted as listless, disengaged drones, the moment has passed. These fiery exchanges seem like a relic of an angrier, younger political climate, America's zit-covered freshman picture that you cover up out of embarrassment. Anna Paquin plays Lisa Cohen (in a role similar to hers in Spike Lee's 25th Hour, which captures the aforementioned mood more effectively), a playful, privileged student on the Upper West Side, at least until a fatal accident thrusts her moral conscience into vertigo. Seeing the sheer confidence of tone in the opening half-hour makes you mourn for the mess that follows; barely minutes into the film, Margaret is skipping along the street until a chance encounter with a bus driver leads to a pedestrian being struck. The handheld camera jerks up towards the sky and then is suddenly still, we see and hear the visceral crunch of the victim's groceries, and then a woman is dead. The cinematography, which gives the appearance of grainy camcorder footage, assists, using available light to create believable grit. Lisa, being the teenager she is, returns home covered in blood, flippantly replies to her little brother's query, and only then unloads in the bathroom. Lonergan uses slow motion and compressed, telephoto shots to show a girl mute to the rest of the world, walking several blocks in the blink of an eye. And he positions the camera overhead (suggesting a voyeuristic surveillance) as she fends off the advances of her best friend in a cafe. But that's the least of her worries; you can barely hear their dialogue, the soundtrack gradually building a mass of nonsense and noise in the back of her mind. About half of the rest of Margaret documents the self-righteous entitlement of a teenager who witnesses a tragedy and, consumed by the guilt of her involvement, embarks on a quest to right wrongs and reveals truths. When the camera focuses on the agony and desperate etched on Paquin's face, and the lengths she will go to in order to assuage her own conscience, the film excels. She attacks each scene with the youthful ferocity of someone who believes she understands who she is, but fashions a role for herself that masks vanity for doing the right thing. Her delivery is almost always breathless, conviction weaved through her words but breaking down from the inside. Paquin is capable of anything - ask her to lose her virginity to the greasy stoner classmate, and she'll do it (a piercingly accurate first time sex scene, consisting mostly of fumbling, darkness and embarrassment). Ask her to seduce her well-meaning but naive teacher with the mock confidence of an adult putting the moves on in a bar, and she'll do it. Watch her wield cigarettes as a weapon to mark her independence to the world. But despite her brilliance, there's hardly any consistency or continuity between these two trysts, with large swathes of the film devoted to secondary characterisation that brushes and hints at developments that never arrive. There's an 'intervention' of sorts staged by the drama teacher which doubles as an acting exercise, with techie Lisa unleashing a torrent of tears for her fractured relationship with best friend turned ardent admirer (who then inexplicably disappears for the rest of the film). Lonergan himself plays the quiet, unassuming father a million miles away in California. His monthly long distance calls have the cadence and personality of one of his riveting business meetings, and you can see a streak of obligation in the way he closes out these conversations. One exquisitely timed sequenced sees his partner walk in and interrupt one of their calls, and the hassle that cascades from this conflict leads to the entire trip being cancelled. Lisa will be mournful and despondent one moment, and giggling in Central Park the next. Teenagers may be remarkably unpredictable, but Lonergan can't marry these sequences together with any conviction. They seem like two separate movies altogether, merged by vague contemplations via muted cityscapes in wide shot. The film aims to expose Lisa's phony, operatic crusade as nothing more than an immature brat shifting the centre of the universe in alignment with her conscience, but the main problem is that this spills out elsewhere. Each character exists in Lonergan's cinematic world, where strangers caught up in emotional crises run their mouths and spit each carefully cultivated word of his script without so much as a stutter. Every lecture directed at Lisa from the older, matured figures of Emily and Joan may be true, but the conversations become shrill and facile because of the way the dialogue is written, with Lonergan being unnecessarily wordy or unable to smuggle his thematic intents more effectively. Even Paquin, who's prone to outbursts of faux intellect and moral superiority, can't reign these in. Compare that to the single allowance in Lonergan's debut (delivered by himself, naturally), and the depths of emotion he musters with tortured glances and clipped words in Manchester By the Sea. So the final flourish, a lurid, unapologetically melodramatic opera where mother and daughter openly weep, is made dull by all the weeping and moping beforehand. It's par on course for hysterics, instead of being a torrent of emotional catharsis.

I unfortunately subjected myself to the full 3 hour cut of this film. An apparent coming of age movie following the subsequent aftermath of a death by RTA inadvertently caused by self involved teen Lisa (Paquin).Lisa is out shopping for a cowboy hat due to the shallow motive of looking the part for a horse riding trip with her absent father. Being unsuccessful, she notices a bus driver wearing the exact accessory she is seeking. She then frantically chases after the bus, waving emphatically, asking the bus driver where he got his fine hat. The driver allows himself to be distracted, drives through a red light and ends up dismembering a pedestrian with his bus. Lisa stays with the woman whilst she bleeds out and eventually passes on. The film then depicts Lisa's "inner turmoil" she experiences after the incident, albeit, poorly.This film is the epitome of bad script writing, it severely lacks character development and only partially redeems itself with some cinematography, which is all undone by unusual and disjointed film editing.Is these sorts of scenarios one expects someone who is the indirect cause of another's death to go through some sort of self realisation. This did not occur. Lisa did not express an appropriate level of guilt. Neither did she go off the rails, partake in any self-deprecation or seek forgiveness. She did not apologise and there was no genuine admittance of guilt until the end. Her guilt was not evident in her behaviour throughout the film but instead in a few childish outbursts.I took an immediate dislike to Lisa, she was bratty, self involved and immature yet strangely in possession of quite an advanced dialogue. The character interaction was unusual, especially when involving the character Emily who's dialogue was nonsensical and executed poorly. Maybe this is the way New Yorkers interact, I'm British so what do I know?Nearly every character in this film was easily provoked, I feel the film was mostly taken up by needless arguments. I felt no empathy towards any of the characters and at a push the only character I felt any affinity with was Ramon (Jean Reno) who was inexplicably killed off. Which in my opinion is a lazy way to remove a character from the story.As affirmed by Lisa's own statement, the film lacked any genuine emotion or sense of connection between characters. Everyone seemed to be in desperate need of a new moral compass.After the incident Lisa does not recoil into herself like any genuine human being would but instead becomes an incredible annoyance to any unfortunate soul forced to interact with her. Lisa's arrogant comparison between herself and Monica's daughter is laughable, and the scene where she gushes over Mr Aaron (Damon) is revolting as she seems incapable of any restraint. I found myself vocally cringing throughout.David's insight on Shakespeare was refreshing and the only part that was remotely interesting.The sub plot to this film as depicted between Ramon and Joan/ Lisa and Mr Aaron is if you pester a love interest (who has no interest) enough then they will surely become submissive. I'm not sure that is something that should be driven home.I was surprised this film had such big names. In summary I felt this film was an utter failure but it contains some political viewpoints that indicate why it may have been pushed to success in America. The only genuine part of the film was when Lisa reunites with her mother over a medium of entertainment they previously disliked but eventually see the beauty in.

Beautifully written and imaginatively filmed by Kenneth Lonergan, "Margaret" is filled with solipsistic characters obsessed with their hostilities and need to hurt. An impressive Anna Paquin plays Lisa, a New York high school student whose involvement in a fatal bus accident torments her but also allows it to be incorporated into her skewed worldview. It would be easy to condemn Lisa as a privileged, self-righteous teenager except that her world is also being shaped by the people she interacts with who refuse to meet her needs, most notably Emily (Jeannie Berlin), the deceased's best friend, in denial of her own responses; and her mother (J. Smith-Cameron, excellent in a very complex role), an actress starved for attention onstage and off. The cast of supporting characters who exhibit their own self-serving behavior include Matthew Broderick, Jean Reno, Mark Ruffalo, Kieran Culkin and a very fine Matt Damon. Lonergan brings a playwright's precision in both ideas and dialogue to film and, aided by director of photography Ryszard Lenczewski, captures a group of city dwellers so confined in their closed environment that they refuse to believe anything other that what it tells them. (He also plays Lisa's father, removed to the beaches of southern California but still a product of city self-absorption.) Highly recommended.

This could be one of the five worst movies I have seen in the last 10 years. I could have directed a film better than this and I am not in that industry. Here me out. I have watched movies intently for 40+ years. I rarely watch sitcoms, reality TV, nature shows, talk shows, drama series, or even made for TV movies. I just about only watch theatrical movies. This movie is so poorly directed that I was angry I wasted my time. Anna Paquin must have delivered one of the worst performances of a leading lady ever. This woman simply can not act. Even my wife who is not an avid movie fan commented, "Who is this terrible actress?" How someone like this ever made it into the movies is a complete mystery. Please do not waste your life watching this. It is hard to believe that Matthew Broderick, Mark Ruffalo, Matt Damon and Jean Reno were in this. Did they read the script beforehand? I am very fair when I rate a movie and rarely have I seen a movie this poorly scripted. The dialog was horrid! I watched this thing, following scene after scene, expecting some great revelation and then nothing happened. At times there were bizarre sequences of filming which were totally out of place and proceeded no where. My wife and I actually cracked up at this. Did this film have an editor? I will admit there was perhaps 10 minutes of good dialog in the film. It is not like I am an old person who is everything but liberal or not in touch with modernity. I am a part-time abstract artist and very progressive in other ways as well. I have an open mind about everything but know a bad film when I see it. Kenneth Lonergan is not a director to watch in the future. Cross him off the list.