Death is an absurd fact of life. Get over it.
That's director Brad Silberling's message to you, wrenched from the gut of his own life experience (his girlfriend was murdered in 1989).
He pulls no punches, or punchlines, giving an honestly intimate and genuinely funny account of bereavement.
Jake Gyllenhaal is Joe, a spiritual drifter who's struggling to find his way. Then his fiancée is gunned down.
Shellshocked, he stays with the (almost) in-laws, who drain his spirit for essence of their dead daughter. To further complicate matters, he seeks solace in tormented local tottie, Birdie (Ellen Pompeo).
As the father in mourning, Dustin Hoffman is a revelation.
He's a flurry of movement, mad busy with minor distractions. He'll do anything but stand still and realise his world is shattered, just like the window across the street where the bullets passed through.
Conversely, Mrs Floss is uninhibited in her resentment. Susan Sarandon delights in the role, ranting against the shoulder-rubbing and cake-baking, scalding her husband for being so gosh-darn grateful.
Their different coping mechanisms grind together, underlining the couples' anguish while eliciting laughs.
Doe-eyed Gyllenhall, meanwhile, plays the deer-in-headlights act to perfection.
Silberling treads the fine line between comedy and tragedy fearlessly, and - for the most part - with restraint.
There are a few jarring moments. The offbeat sensibility feels self-conscious in the opening funeral sequence, and later there's an incongruously schmaltzy set-up where Joe must testify against the gunman.
But these are minor missteps in an otherwise impressive tightrope act.
With "Moonlight Mile", director and cast prove that no feat is more awe-inspiring than laughter in the face of death.
Moonlight Mile (2003)
