an unrestrained enigmatic expression of love to the art of film. every frame weeps with pathos and nostalgia, and like a sickness spreading through the walls, there’s a veritable dread and isolation accompanying the corridors and back rooms. the building itself playing its own part in the death of the art form, with the characters’ importance second to the structure they find themselves in.
i understand the critiques of this film, it’s more than justifiable to believe that as gorgeous…
weird and wonderful, the worst person in the world serves as a meditation on mortality focused not on what death brings, but what life means before the end; a film not so much focused on the relationships you have with others as much as it is with yourself. people, like moments, come and go and ultimately the only ever constant in life is yourself, and for better or for worse, joachim trier nails that.
was interested to revisit after watching paris, texas (that one scene in particular). love this.
cinema in its purest form. possibly the most gorgeous film i’ve ever seen. who else crying in the cinema rn
loved every minute of this. a Once In a Lifetime film. every shot is pure art. every little idiosyncrasy serves a purpose. in many ways, and bizarrely enough, this is one of the most true to life films i’ve ever seen. cinematic ecstasy. stop making sense. david byrne is the fucking greatest.
