Diego Crespo’s review published on Letterboxd:
Even Frank can’t admit why. That would mean coming to terms with a life dedicated to bullshit for the sake of some respectability, hierarchy, “to protect people” from the very thing he wanted to claim. Frank loses so much, he even winds up losing track of the days. For the passage of time, this is as long as it should be. It’s shot as cold and as “matter of fact” as it needs to be. It stands on its own, not as a monument, but a graveyard. People might die alone but they sure as shit don’t have to. Respectability in these systems means nothing compared to just a minute with a loved one. Scorsese indicting and reminding.
Attaching any further superlative descriptions to this would feel inappropriate. This is the movie of 2019.