Loneliness makes people do strange and superstitious things. This movie makes them do these strange things slowly, for a really, really long time; like, I was able to make myself some tea and crumpets while a shot of one of the characters thinking about doing something strange (or nothing at all) continued when I came back. Art films like this are deeply mood sensitive, so my food poisoning did it no favors. But like the long shots out of which it is comprised, its melancholia continues to linger. D for entertainment purposes, B for philosophical inquiry into loneliness.
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