Alice Stoehr’s review published on Letterboxd:
Staggering. Every one of Tarkovsky's lateral tracking shots is like a finger delicately pulling back petals to get to the core of a flower, and the flower is our world, and inside it is Nostalghia. The atmosphere is suffused with one man's loss, another man's estrangement, and with the omnipresent dripping or rushing of water. The greens the water rushes past are unlike any other filmmaker's greens, though sometimes they disappear for the sake of black and white which connotes—well, something. (Fantasy? Memory? Dreams? And more?) Your fingers can trace out the shapes of its fluid symbols or the outline of the imprint it leaves on your soul. But, as I'm finding, this movie is a challenge to write about without wanting to leave words behind and lose myself in its tracking shots again.