Luke McCarthy’s review published on Letterboxd:
First viewing of this left me on somewhat of a high, my previous review ('Enraptured by life') an accurate summation of what I assumed were Jarmusch's intentions here. Second viewing reveals a somewhat different though equally affecting experience. The affection for existence remains, each individual afforded the dignity of a life existing outside of our central character, Jarmusch's elegant screenplay a kind of minute refutation of narrative solipsism. But whereas I previously linked this compassionate instinct to a kind of undying optimism, now I find it to be something more complex, a document of blameless stagnation that posits comfortability as both a virtue and a symptom. Even if life could be better, should one attempt to 'fix' what isn't truly broken?