the_narrator’s review published on Letterboxd:
Comparing this to The Tree of Life sounds absurd on the surface (and not just because Mike Mills probably has a much more interesting record collection than Terrence Malick), but this is the only movie since Tree of Life (even including the following Malick movies) that completely captures the feeling I got from that movie, of experiencing memories so vivid and wonderful and ordinary that they almost replace my own (and both Mills and Malick know exactly when to pop the balloon; there's almost an exact reprise of "My brother died when he was 18 years old" here). Even just the way that Mills peacefully glides the camera through so many scenes is something I find incredibly, inexplicably moving, like Mills is searching through every one of these memories for something unknown to the viewer. I don't know where Mills will go now that he's done essay-films for both parents, but wherever that may be, I will be there. He should just maybe be a little prolific about it than Malick was at this point in his career, though.