Two days after seeing it, I can’t remember what it’s about. Which doesn’t matter because it wasn’t about narrative as much as it was about melancholy, wistfulness, and playfulness, and how it’s possible for these these tones to coexist and turn into more than sentimental slop, even in the face of death and heartache. Both the male and female love interests play their roles quietly, growing into themselves rather than yelling at one another when things get broken and lonely. And she’s got beautiful eyes which are a delight to spend 2hrs looking into. 73/B+
[From now on, I’m gonna try to adopt the 0-100 scale which allows for more discernment space (while keeping on the Grade-school scale training wheels for now). But so 80 doesn’t equal B- and 70 doesn’t equal C-. Rather, with the whole scale in play, a 50 is a fine Cish movie, 60s are are all good movies, 70s are like really really good movies, 80s the best of the year, and 90s are eternal masterpieces.]
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