Gail’s review published on Letterboxd:
I feel like I've been watching a lot of D. W. Griffith again, and his intertitles have a lecturing, moralizing tone to them, and there tend to be a lot of them, breaking up the action or the feeling of the scene at times. I'm glad Alice Guy Blanche is more of the Buster Keaton school of intertitle thought, letting you watch the character do what they're doing.
Watching the characters react to the teenage daughter coughing and distressed and helped into bed really got to me. I've read a lot of books written in the late Victorian and Edwardian eras; I had thought I was sort of familiar with consumption, or as familiar as someone experiencing the threat almost exclusively by reading can be. Perhaps it's just a stage of life thing, being more mature and being additionally a parent, that it seemed so much more real, more dreadful, than I ever felt it to be as a clueless-but-well-read twelve year old reading the books with the characters who cough and get tired and then disappear.
The glimpse of leaves already falling outside the window as the doctor says the daughter will be dead by the time the last leaf falls was a nice/crushing touch. It reminded me a little of the visual of the rose petals falling in the animated Beauty and the Beast.
The little girl trying to save her sister's life with string in the yard is so lovely and sad. I watched Yi Yi recently, and she reminded me a bit of the little boy in that movie when he was taking pictures of the back of people's heads.