DeepArcher’s review published on Letterboxd:
It didn't take me long to realize the obvious double-meaning of the second part of the title, that it's not just about lives that have been fixed into some kind of stasis, but that the film itself is literally a series of painterly still lifes. Navigating through a nebulous haze of memory to find beauty in the most mundane and familiar of images, like the gentle patter of rain falling on a collection of black umbrellas, or the striking portraits of family members merely waiting out life sitting in their living rooms. Distant Voices, Still Lives is *almost* as ruthlessly dour as most other British dramas about the abuses and struggles faced by working-class people, but there are certain glimmers of humor within it, and an obvious musicality to it. It's a graceful, trancelike journey through a memory palace. A deathbed recollection of the moments of verse in a life full of prose. The imagery is fucking jaw-dropping.