Watching films like Landscape in the Mist is the main reason why I love this site so much. I don't remember the exact circumstances that led to my viewing of this film, but I know that without Letterboxd I never in a quadrillion years would of ever discovered that this film, or any similar to it (such as Tarkovsky's films), even existed. It's truly a beautiful thing.

I'm currently exploring any films I may have missed from the year 1988 so I ask this question. Was every film made in this year a damn masterpiece? For the love of God.

Seriously, it is like every night this week I'm getting my brain, heart or face melted.

As far as this film goes , how could something this depressing be made to be so beautiful? I'll do a longer write-up on this some other time because 1988 is wearing me the fuck out emotionally.

Anyone reading this born in '88 Congratulations you are probably awesome.

Finally I have met with Theo Angelopoulos. Such a profound and emotional film it was. Thanks to his long takes, viewers can take the deep effect of Landscape in the Mist in a direct way. He shows and tells us existantialism and life itself with this film. What is life? What Angelopoulos tries to show us? For me, the answer is sufferings, hopes, deceptions, comedowns... He strives to show us these negative sides of world. We set some aims into our lifes and live for these aims. Some of us want to marry, some of us want to find her father, but some of us cannot achieve these goals. Life is relentless, life is full of mist...

This would have been really good if Angelopoulos could for one moment stop himself from fetishizing relationships between teenage girls and adult men (cf also The Beekeeper).

Tries way to hard to be a 'masterpiece.'

An Odyssean film portraying two remarkably persistent children in search of something they know is inevitably futile. It is at times delightfully surreal, but mostly incredibly dark and brutally real. The constant contrasts between light and dark figures, the long and laborious takes, and the two minuscule figures perpetually oveshadowed by their immense and intimidating surroundings reminded me strongly of Antonioni works such as Il Grido and Red Desert. Top that off with a memorable and haunting, yet minimalist score along with strong performances and a surprisingly rewarding spiritual quality and you get a quietly immense masterpiece.

Film is the only reality that makes sense.

Angelopoulos shoots this like a ghost, gently gliding around a scene, capturing the minutiae of moments. The world doesn't quite make sense, with stairways that lead to nowhere on a beach and snow freezing an entire city, but the gliding camera makes it feel natural. We're goaded into this nonsensical but sensual journey by these individual moments, pockets of magic that are excessively mundane, pushed forwards by Karaindrou's sweeping romantic score. Utterly beautiful

Wow. Angelopoulos has basically changed my life, and I've only seen three of his films. This one is probably his most simple, though it's his most emotional.

Dr

Initial thoughts can be found here. Most profoundly moving story of adolescent endeavour. Most sublimely realized use of an austere setting. Most piercingly elegiac look of a weary social climate. Can't directly gush any more praise than that. Check the above linked piece for why I feel this is the synthesis of Theo's craft—between fragile uncertainty and personal longing, as two children are put on an odyssey to find the inexplicable. Numerous dolly shots just leave me breathless: my favourite being Voula/Alexander running in the thick snowfall as casual bystanders gaze at the sky, or the gigantic stone hand that is revealed in the ocean as a helicopter lifts it away. If I had to straw-grab, my ~only~ issue is Orestes' dialogue being laced with overt Meaning. But as if that matters when this stunning childhood fable asks for your complete solicitude. Miraculous.