Hungkat’s review published on Letterboxd:
WKW’s shifts of colors adorned by the unfiltered grainy texture, static pauses and glaring transitions between scenes, hypnotically carry you off to the lighthouse in the middle of the ocean and leaving you there, alone with nothing but a crumpled heart. Within the filthy confines, Christopher Doyle’s camerawork intimately oscillates and jumps back & forth between the men’s seething anger and profound affection for a period of time to build up tensions that initially smolder and subsequently go kaboom. Lai and Ho's desires for companionship had gone cold, re-heated only to be scrambled up inside a time capsule of lost dream engulfed by the malevolent vortex buried beneath the abyss of the Iguazu Falls. Where they lose each other is not in the vastness of the universe, but ironically in the possessive attachment that leaves no space for one to breathe.
"It turns out lonely people are all the same"
Here you go, drift on. Drift into their lives while they drift out of each other. The spontaneous skin-to-skin tango in the dark, with jazz music in the back imbued with a shade of cool and gentle vibe, makes us wonder how long this love is going to last…and before we are able to answer, the narrative comes apart to form an abstract collage of memory. How the past lapses itself onto the present, or vice-versa, when the two lovers break-up merely to find themselves back in one another’s arms, as the doomed romance continues to be looping on repeat. People lose their love because they don’t understand each other and as of that, they hurt themselves. When the pain has more-or-less subsided, they become brave enough to confront their old wounds, and once again going through the whole ordeal of heartache by re-opening the plaster that covered the deep gashes. Isn’t this what love is – a never-ending cycle of destruction and rebuild? Even though their love story can solely be recalled in the past tense, isn't it still a bittersweet thing especially when they have a past waiting for them to cling on every night they go to bed, whether in Buenos Aires or Taipei?