I feel the need to cover the upcoming A Ghost Story not because I desperately want to see it. Let’s make that completely clear. I apologize in advance, because I’m normally polite when expressing a difference of opinion or a negative comment, but that well of being nice has run dry lately. I dislike Rooney Mara; I find her about as compelling as watching paint dry, and she comes across as too try-hard (we get it, you’re so original and method and there’s no one like you. Yawn.). Ditto to Casey Affleck. I dislike Affleck – he’s too one-note for me as an actor (why does he have to play the same scrubby dude in every damn movie?), and that’s not even touching what I and countless other women think of him (Brie Larson, you’re my goddamned hero for your vanilla bitchery during awards season. Please teach me everything you know. I want to become your apprentice.). I don’t know enough about David Lowery’s efforts as a director to make a judgment, so he gets a pass from my wrath.
However, I will say this: a friend of mine recently lost her husband. He was very young. There are no words to express the grief she is feeling, and no matter how tough it is to witness on my end, it is absolutely nothing compared to what she is currently enduring. It’s a level of hell I don’t wish on anyone.
And so I hope, despite my faults with the cast, that this film will do a horrific experience like this justice. I hope it can bring comfort to someone who is hurting. I hope it makes sense. I hope it makes someone feel less alone, or opens someone else’s eyes to the pain we really hope we never see. I hope it puts good in the world. I hope this isn’t someone taking a stab at what this feels like, disrespecting someone’s real pain in the name of art. I hope it’s more than what my cynical self fears.