We’re gonna get a bunch of films about the existential anxiety of exile, huh? It’s okay with me if they stay this gorgeously mounted and emotionally rooted.

Funnier than I'd anticipated.

The way this descends into a dizzy sort of melancholy is thrilling. Even rewatching it is charged by the sense that it could go anywhere-- tonally, dramatically, stylistically-- at any any moment.

Likewise there are at the very least about a dozen different interpretative avenues into and through the work. It has the cumulative feeling of a final work, even if FILMING OTHELLO comes later, like a matryoshka doll containing within it shadows of all his past work and recurring preoccupations, refracting endlessly.

A major work of American filmmaking.

Just the greatest. I never seem to give it quite enough credit. Each revisit brings more resonant moments, more unforgettable images. This time the strange simplicity of it all--particularly its ideas on the precarious place of children and the other little things of the world-- was almost unspeakably moving. The throw away moment following the local hangman back into his home almost had me in tears.