Monumental. What can one say about a work predicated entirely on the intangible relationship between dreams and nightmares? An adventure story turned into a surrealist evocation of internal, repressed psychic trauma reverberating across achingly beautiful, Argento-esque images and moody explorations of landscape, recalling both Maya Deren and Buñuel in its haunting, allegorical make-up. This is completely up my alley: elegiac formalism meshed with poetic digressions consisting of streams-of-consciousness reminiscent of late Godard, all wrapped within an unnerving and hypnotically assured…

The moans from critics about how this film is "safe" or "too focused on ideas" reek of white liberalism. As a work about laying the groundwork for the communist movement and the personal relationships/growth of Marx and Engels, this is all I could've hoped for. This film gave me a rush that I don't feel too often in cinema nowadays; watching the slow, steady growth of an ideology, all based around the idea that the world can and must be…