A Big Bold Beautiful Journey

 

Director Kogonada

Kogonada with Colin Ferrell

Kogonada and Ferrell with Margot Robbie

A BIG BOLD BEAUTIFUL JOURNEY                 B+                                                      Ireland  USA  (108 mi)  2025  d: Kogonada

This is the first day of my life
Swear I was born right in the doorway
I went out in the rain, suddenly everything changed
They’re spreading blankets on the beach

Yours was the first face that I saw
I think I was blind before I met you
And I don’t know where I am, I don’t know where I’ve been
But I know where I want to go

Bright Eyes, First Day of My Life, 2005, Bright Eyes - First Day of My Life [Official Music Video] YouTube (3:06)

The most hilariously playful of the essayist-turned-filmmaker Kogonada films, which would include the ravishingly beautiful naturalism of 2017 Top Ten List #5 Columbus and the sci-fi world of artificial intelligence in After Yang (2021), where the tagline of this film is:  What if you could open a doorway and walk through it to re-live a defining moment from your past?  While the release has been postponed several times, the first film Kogonada neither wrote nor edited, it has taken an avalanche of negative criticism, with some suggesting it’s among the worst films of the year, even described as a bomb, yet this is nothing as they describe, instead it’s actually a weirdly fascinating, fun experience, clever and insightful, absurdist in its own way, where it takes us down a rabbit hole, much like Jacques Rivette’s Céline and Julie Go Boating (Céline et Julie vont en bateau) (1974), while it also recalls the romantic time traveling escapades of Bertrand Bonello’s 2024 Top Ten List #9 The Beast (La Bête), Charlie Kaufman’s I'm Thinking of Ending Things (2020), or Robert Schwentke’s The Time Traveler's Wife (2009), while also reminiscent of the quirky romantic journey of Marc Webb’s (500) Days of Summer (2009), a throwback to the whimsical comedy of Zach Braff’s GARDEN STATE (2004), or even the disoriented editing structure of Charlie Kaufmann and Michel Gondry’s ETERNAL SUNSHINE OF THE SPOTLESS MIND (2004).  In other words, despite what disparaging critics have suggested, this is not a waste of time, but a bonanza of riches, a romantic fantasy filled with moments of joy, but also major disappointments, as it excruciatingly examines the flawed lives of two people who are single, filled with regrets, missed opportunities, and the trauma of bad relationships, which is part of the baggage we all carry and what makes us who we are, magically making them come together through a kind of ingeniously clever, futuristic matchmaking service, where there’s a humanizing beauty to be had in their shared moments together.  Korean-American filmmaker Kogonada’s birth name is Park Joong Eun, where his professional name was derived from renowned Japanese auteur Yasujirō Ozu’s longtime screenwriter Kogo Noda, and what we know is that he’s developed a reputation for the unconventional.  Perhaps the biggest surprise is the film’s musical score is written by Joe Hisaishi, who is best known for his collaborations with Studio Ghibli Japanese anime director Hayao Miyazaki, the maker of such enchanting films like MY NEIGHBOR TOTORO (1988), PRINCESS MONONOKE (1997), SPIRITED AWAY (2001), HOWL’S MOVING CASTLE (2004), and more recently The Wind Rises (Kaze Tachinu) (2014) and The Boy and the Heron (Kimitachi wa dô ikiru ka) (2023), where this marks the celebrated composer's first score outside of Japan, adding a touch of magic to the experience.  There’s nothing quite like this in any of the year’s movie releases, where the uniqueness of the subject matter, beautifully realized by screenwriter Seth Reiss, a former head writer for the irreverent, satirical publication The Onion and on the staff of Late Night with Seth Meyers, becomes a cause for celebration.  While deeply felt and understated, this may not be as intellectually challenging as the filmmaker’s earlier work, but it is lighter and infinitely more entertaining, revealing a side we haven’t really seen before, literally swooning with romanticism, where these big name Hollywood actors are an absolute delight in something less mainstream and more offbeat, and while the protagonist’s problems aren’t exactly so earthshaking that it requires divine intervention, like George Bailey in Frank Capra’s IT’S A WONDERFUL LIFE (1946), the solution does appear to be driven by the transformative power of love. 

Carrying over the married couple actors from his previous film, including the artistically stunning, visually dazzling cinematography by Benjamin Loeb, employing a vivid color palette, while adding a few new surprises, the unusually versatile Colin Ferrell stars as David, a single man with a perpetually lonely soul, yet he’s completely relatable as someone we might have known, smart, imaginative, yet not exactly socially engaging, typically keeping to himself, where he doesn’t easily make connections.  When his car is booted for parking issues, in desperation he turns to a rental car agency specializing in emergencies since 1994, whose homemade flyer advertisement is seen posted on a wall directly in front of his car, including a phone number and a mysterious broken heart.  Arriving in this immense warehouse that is completely dark except for an illuminated card table on the far side, like a football field away, where two people sit under a giant sign that says The Rental Car Agency – none other than Kevin Kline (you have to do a double take to realize that’s him) and a German-accented Phoebe Waller-Bridge who relishes the use of the word “fuck,” whose surreal personalities are oddly eccentric, characters you might find in a Monty Python movie, not at all what he expects, as it plays out like an audition, where they already have a professional headshot photo of him, a picture David has never seen before, informing him “Sometimes we have to perform to get to the truth,” so none of this makes sense.  He’s also a bit surprised that the only cars offered are two identical 1994 Saturn SL’s, which are no longer in operation, yet there they are, and while he’s flummoxed by the bizarre way the car agent’s communicate, almost like robotic AI versions of themselves, insisting there’s only one right answer to all his inquiries, nonetheless he’s persuaded to purchase the accompanying GPS, which the car didn’t originally have in the pre-internet era, with no outlets for a phone, complete with an animated screen.  As it turns out, that GPS is a major character in the film, seemingly omniscient and all-knowing, with a cryptic voice offering advice that goes well beyond navigational directions, voiced by Jodie Turner-Smith, with David seen in the car on the road happily belting out one of the songs from the musical A Chorus Line while he drives to a wedding, A Chorus Line (1985) - One Scene (8/8) | Movieclips YouTube (4:09), not the norm, for sure, yet it exudes pizzazz from the hidden regions of his less than dynamic personality.  Upon arrival at the wedding in the pouring rain, taking place in a hotel called La Strada (after the Fellini film), all the guests are handed Jacques Demy The Umbrellas of Cherbourg (Les Parapluies de Cherbourg) umbrellas for an outdoor service (just a few of the many cinematic cues referenced), where David looks across the aisle to see a woman looking back at him, Margot Robbie as Sarah, where the pair briefly engages in conversation afterwards.  He’s more reserved and shy, quietly haunted by regrets and unresolved relationships, while she’s more of a free spirit, where her cheerful exterior hides the vulnerability and deep turmoil within, as both are unhappily single, where neither is the person they would like to be, but they are so emotionally guarded that they’d rather ignore any obvious attraction to avoid the risk of getting hurt, so the encounter ends awkwardly, seemingly built on self-deprecating declarations, but nothing becomes of it before going their separate ways.  Instead, on the road afterwards, the GPS informs him of an upcoming spot to stop for a fast food burger.  Incredulously, Sarah is there as well, coming over to share a table with David, where they realize each is driving the exact same vintage Saturn, quickly assessing that this is more than mere coincidence.  Confessing a few personal secrets about themselves, their fears, their insecurities, and their fear of commitment, discovering both have been disappointed in relationships, they decide to continue the journey together, but only after Sarah’s car fails to start, so they really have no other choice, turning into a road trip that is partly a journey down memory lane and partly a spiritual awakening.   

Literally thrown in each other’s laps, it all seems designed by a higher power, embarking on a fantastical, magical mystery tour together, where the GPS leads them to a series of mysterious doors in the middle of nowhere as open portals to another dimension that allows them to revisit key moments of their past, like a lighthouse in Canada that may or may not have led to a personal epiphany for David, or an art museum that Sarah used to visit with her equally free spirited mother, developing a trusting relationship with the guard who let them in after hours when the museum is completely dark, so these are memorable places, holding a very special significance in their lives, perhaps the source of their negative views of themselves.  They connect on an existential level, both very self-aware, digging into who they are and how they got to be that way, happier alone than in the company of others, yet that is equally frustrating, challenged by their own unique limitations, as a dark cloud seems to hover over each of them, stymied by an inability to connect with others, yet visiting these doors is a bit like dating, as the accumulation of knowledge and the discovery of new possibilities is essential.  When another door leads to David’s high school, seeing him as a teenager while viewers see him as an adult, the film explodes into a full-blown musical, as David has the role of J. Pierrepont Finch in the Pulitzer prize-winning musical How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying, suddenly finding himself performing onstage just after the girl of his dreams rejects him, breaking out into a song and dance, with Sarah, who is a musical junkie, howling with delight in the audience, A BIG BOLD BEAUTIFUL JOURNEY – Exclusive 6 Minute Scene YouTube (6:24).  It all feels cathartic, like this has a chance to change their future in some mysterious way, but neither one seems able to find that key, still locked in the past with no way out, where there’s a beautiful balance between cynicism and hope, as each one gets stuck in their own personal trauma, trying to reach out, but get blocked by their preconceptions, which has a way of bulldozing their hopes and dreams.  The filmmaker has a blast just visualizing this succession of doors, like one of their destinations where Sarah and David climb a hill that incredulously offers them a view of Earth from space.  With each passing door comes new revelations about a crucial event in each other’s lives that provides greater understanding into their character.  There’s an Alice in Wonderland innocence and naïveté about this, as these kinds of literary efforts are usually young people or teenagers passing through a phase into adulthood, but these are adults reverting back to their childhoods, seemingly rewiring the circuitry, but neither one is brave enough to reach out to the other, as they seem to need an extra boost to appreciate their own lives.  Perhaps the most therapeutic sequences are surreal and intoxicating moments where David is transported back to a hospital in Ireland on the day he was born where he’s anonymously able to encourage his own reticent father as a younger man (Hamish Linklater), while Sarah visits her ailing mother (Lily Rabe, daughter of actress Jill Clayburgh - - cool how the parents are partners in real life) in the hospital on the day she dies of cancer, a woman who sacrificed everything to give her daughter a good life, finally sharing that poignant moment together that they were never able to actually experience, offering some kind of corrective.  There’s a weirdly amusing, phantasmagorical nature to the entire experience, beautifully rendered, with just a touch of the right serious note, but as soon as we hear the sounds of Bright Eyes - First Day of My Life [Official Music Video] YouTube (3:06), we know we’re immersed in a whimsical theatrical journey brimming with optimism, given that distinct indie film vibe.   Kogonada is known for his distinctive style and philosophical themes, as the film explores the possibility of restoring belief in love and the potential to overcome cynicism as one gets older, overcoming that creeping doubt that lingers, where there’s a wonderful turn in one of the more dramatic scenes with Mitski’s rendition of Peter Townsend’s seminal song, Let My Love Open the Door | A Big Bold Beautiful Journey ... YouTube (2:43), which seems to be the missing key of the entire film, allowing them to begin anew, their lives forever altered, offering just a hint of hope that despite all obstacles, there is a pathway to a brighter future.  If you stay until the end of the closing credits, which features a breakthrough dance sequence, the last sound we hear are feet approaching a door that closes shut, suggesting the journey is now complete.  While it may not be what some people have come to expect, it does exude charm, feeling like the perfect antidote for these politically chaotic and overly traumatic times.      

2024 Top Ten List #5 La Chimera

Director Alice Rohrwacher

sisters Alice and Alba Rohrwacher

Josh O'Connor on the set with the director

Josh O'Connor, Alice Rohrwacher, and Isabella Rossellini

Isabella Rossellini with the Rohrwacher sisters

LA CHIMERA             A                                                                                                            Italy  France Switzerland  (130 mi)  2023

In the place where I grew up, I often heard stories of secret discoveries, clandestine excavations and mysterious adventures.  It was enough to stay in a bar late at night, or stop in a patch of countryside to hear about that guy who had uncovered a Villanovan tomb with his tractor, or the other guy who digging at night near the necropolis had found such a long gold necklace to be able to surround a house, and yet another who had become rich in Switzerland by selling an Etruscan vase that he had found in the garden.  Stories of skeletons and ghosts, of escapes and darkness.  The life around me was made up of several parts: a sunny, contemporary, busy one, and a nocturnal, mysterious, secret one.  There were many layers, and we all experienced them: it was enough to dig a few centimeters into the earth and a fragment of an artefact, made by other hands, appeared among the stones.  How long had he been looking at me?  It was enough to go to the nearby stables and cellars to realize that those places had been something else, they were perhaps Etruscan tombs, refuges from other times, sacred places.  This closeness between the sacred and the profane, between death and life, which characterized all the years of my growth, has always fascinated me and given my gaze a measure.  This is why I decided to finally make a film that tells this layered plot, this relationship between two worlds, probably the last piece of a triptych on a territory that questions a central question: what to do with the past?  Death is something that our society forces us to face individually, at most within a family.  Instead, comparing myself with the past, I saw an idea of ​​death integrated into life and the community.

—Alice Rohrwacher

A wondrous film that defies description, seemingly frozen in time, full of nostalgia and love for beauty in all its forms, blurring the boundaries of the ancient and the modern until they are almost indistinguishable, finally settling on a state of mind where this film seems to exist, somewhere between the dreamy and the visionary, as one senses things are not altogether real, yet somewhat magical, while also lingering in the poverty of everyday existence of rural Italy, much like the lyrical films of Pietro Marcello, who is credited as one of the inspirations behind this film, collecting testimonies with the director when initially planning a documentary, while also working together on the collective film FUTURA (2021).  Who would think a film about grave robbers could have so much impact?  Dressed in sensual imagery, the film constantly surprises, offering intrigue in a profound, sometimes incomprehensible way, feeling like an ode to Tuscany, a land filled with untold secrets, the stomping grounds of the Taviani brothers, makers of PADRE PADRONE (1977), a pastoral homage to Italian heritage that won the Cannes Palme D’Or (1st prize), the almost never seen IL PRATO (1979), which launched the career of Isabella Rossellini, while the magical THE NIGHT OF THE SHOOTING STARS (1982) may arguably be their best work.  Rohrwacher, who studied literature and philosophy at the University of Turin, has increasingly deployed myth and allegory to tell her stories.  Opening in a dream sequence, one of several recurring sequences that we see, two young lovers are frolicking with a kind of unbridled joy, bathed in a sea of light, as she whispers to him “Have you noticed the sun is following us?”  This is our introduction to Beniamina, a beautiful blond woman with a tattoo of the sun on her shoulder played by Yile Yara Vianello, the star of Rohrwacher’s first feature CORPO CELESTE (2011), whose dreamlike presence is summoned by Arthur (Josh O’Connor), a somewhat sullen character known as the Englishman, or “the foreigner,” a character shrouded in mystery, but slowly a life story unfolds around him, as he’s recently released from prison on unspecified charges, traveling by train to return back to his home, forever haunted by her ghostly memory, as she seems to have drawn him to Tuscany.  They reflect the ill-fated mythological fable of Orpheus and Eurydice (Orpheus and Eurydice: A Tragic Love Story), young and in love, seemingly inseparable, where she is eventually trapped behind in the underworld, forever destined to roam in the darkness.  A tale of love, loss, and the innocence of youth, Rohrwacher is one of the best new talents working today, employing an international cast, where there is always an exploration of the feminine dimension, with several different women intersecting Arthur’s existential path, adding undoubted weight, yet her warm humanism is a direct descendant of the neorealism of Fellini and De Sica, infusing her films with an element of magical realism, subverting all expectations with such a disjointed narrative.  This is the last part of her trilogy examining the Italian identity through a relationship with its past, following The Wonders (Le meraviglie) (2014) and Happy As Lazzaro (Lazzaro Felice) (2018), adding an unmistakable flourish of cinematic poetry that is nothing less than enticing, cloaked in a patina of melancholy, beautifully shot in a combination of Super 16mm, 16mm, and 35mm by French cinematographer Hélène Louvart, who has worked with this director since the beginning, also known for her work with Agnès Varda in The Beaches of Agnès (Les plages d'Agnès) (2008), also Eliza Hittman in Beach Rats (2017) and 2020 Top Ten List #5 Never Rarely Sometimes Always.  Once back home, Arthur’s first order of business is paying a visit to Beniamina’s mother Flora (none other than Isabella Rossellini in a wheelchair), the closest thing he has to a motherly figure, a former opera singer and aging aristocrat whose dilapidated mansion has seen better days, with water dripping from the ceiling, who now supports herself as a music teacher, where her connection to the ethereal comes from her unique understanding of sacred music, yet she’s surrounded by the overlapping dialogue of vulture-like daughters and granddaughters who can’t wait to sell her home and push her into a nursing facility so they won’t have to care for her any longer.  But they keep up the pretense of honor and respectability, paying her visible respect in her presence, while undermining her every chance they get.  This acidic comment on the unscrupulous society the world has become offers insight into the world of today, as people who desecrate the graves of the dead are only thinking about themselves in the present, with little understanding or connection to their historical past.  Rohrwacher is so good at depicting the life of the peasants of her region, told with the poetic power of her vision, as it’s all about an interplay and interactive dialogue with history.  To the Etruscans, for instance, birds in flight represent our destiny, while in a surreal moment we find the protagonist chatting with dead souls in search of their looted relics. 

Through Flora Arthur meets Italia, Carol Duarte, a Brazilian actress previously seen playing Euridice in the barely seen Karim Aïnouz film 2019 Top Ten List #4 Invisible Life (A Vida Invisível), bringing to the screen an imposing spirit with great tenacity, where their relationship is soon cloaked in romance.  She appears to be a tone-deaf music student who pays for her services by being Flora’s attentive live-in servant who is despised and ridiculed by Flora’s daughters, who dismissively order her around, yet her strength of will stands out as she perseveres while secretly housing two small children, showing surprising resiliency, with Arthur taking notice, as she offers him a crash course in Italian that comically resembles a gestural sign language.  One of the early scenes of note is Flora emphasizing to Italia the depth of feeling needed when having a confessional conversation with God in the Mozart aria, Mozart: "Vorrei spiegarvi, oh Dio" - Sabine Devieilhe - YouTube (7:07), one of the more difficult arias Mozart ever wrote, with the lyric, “Let me explain, oh God, what my grief is!  But fate has condemned me to weep and stay silent.”  The setting is a period piece from an impoverished Tuscany in the 1980’s, with its bucolic landscapes and undisturbed natural beauty, as Arthur returns to the small town of Riparbella on the Tyrrhenian Sea, reluctantly rejoining his small band of grave robbers known as the “tambaroli,” who pretend to make their living as farmers and entertainers, but instead pilfer the area’s sacred tombs of the ancient Etruscans searching for artifacts and ornaments to sell on the black market, hoping to one day strike it rich.  Other than Arthur, they are not archeologists or historians, but are simply poor.  Predecessors to the Romans, the Etruscans (The Etruscans, an introduction) dedicated their art and their craftsmanship to the world of the dead, while this ragtag group of jesters and musicians are like a vagabond theater troupe, reminiscent of the circus people in Fellini’s LA STRADA (1954), especially their wildly enthusiastic Epiphany Day parade, La Chimera Film Clip | OIFF 2023 - YouTube (1:45).  It turns out they actually left Arthur behind earlier, which accounts for his arrest, but they need him due to his inexplicable talent in using a dowser to divine the precise location of these buried treasures, which aren’t just graves, but shrines and relics left in underground caves and tunnels.  In the small town where Rohrwacher grew up, she recalls these local thieves would come into local bars and café’s to brag about their adventures, providing the inspiration for the film, drawing parallels to Fellini’s I Vitelloni (1953) and Il Bidone (1955), yet rather than drenched in the neorealism of the 1950’s, the director continually offers startling new revelations in this modern era fable, creating a positively enchanting film, which is like a road movie with its many twists and diversions, taking us places where we have never been.  During these misadventures, Arthur continues to be drawn back to thoughts of Beniamina, a mystery woman who is either absent or has disappeared, perhaps even dead, with no real explanation of what happened, feeling more like a mirage (thus the title), which is how the entire film plays out, as we largely sense rather than understand the unspoken mysteries that are all around us.  The film does not have one overarching message, but can be thought of in infinite ways, developing so many different themes, like love, friendship, property law, traditions, the art trade, how to deal with the past, mourning and oppression, and finally, the role of myths, dreams, and the supernatural in our daily lives.  People have different ways of relating to the past, those who plunder and ignore history, or those who instead try to give new life to forgotten places.  To the tambaroli of the 70’s and 80’s, they believe the treasures of the Etruscans are a legacy bequeathed to them, where that desecration is emptied of its meaning.  They sell their goods to an unseen art dealer known as Spartaco, who operates at cargo ports with all the necessary equipment, like excavators, construction cranes, and forklifts, eventually finding their way to museums for public display, apparently with no questions asked, where history is literally for sale when buyers are asked to “estimate the inestimable.”  The group is amusingly contacted by one of Spartaco’s sexually provocative employees acting as a liaison, Melodie, played by Lou Roy-Lecollinet, so mesmerizing in Arnaud Desplechin’s 2015 Top Ten Films #7 My Golden Days (Trois souvenirs de ma jeunesse), who ultimately betrays them.  Punctuated by excerpts from Monteverdi’s Orpheus, Monteverdi: L'Orfeo - Prologue - YouTube (7:07), which adds weight and dimension, much of this feels like a pirate adventure, eloquently combining archaeological scenarios with unmissable views of building and industrial construction sites, exposing a world on the verge of modernization, yet there is also an accompanying love story in both the present and the past that adds a deeper layer of uncovered mystery, where the past is literally calling out to us to pay attention, but these messages are largely ignored.     

The beauty of the film is how it so seamlessly interweaves myths and legend as well as larger ideas about the world of the living and the world of the dead, with suggestions that the old ways never die, all coming together in the delicate poetry of an inexplicable romance, using eclectic musical styles ranging from baroque, opera, classical, to modern electronic, where the music fits well with the content, but it’s nothing short of brilliant when a troubadour breaks out into song, a heroic ballad of Arthur and his band, as the story we are watching about the tambaroli suddenly plays out like musical theater, or an outdoor puppet show, as the sound of a triangle introduces a singer on guitar who casts a bewitching spell, bringing extreme passion into their exploits.  Sometimes Rohrwacher will speed up or slow down footage for comedic or dramatic impact, have characters speak directly to the camera, while other times she’ll literally flip the image on its head.  Things seem to randomly occur, paying little regard to any traditional plot structure, yet the director feels more focused here, accumulating more complexity and depth by creating a dialogue with the past, discovering lost relics that were only meant to be experienced by the dead, so eloquently described by the refrain, “You were not meant for human eyes.”  That is such a powerful Etruscan sentiment, where the world of art is an invaluable human resource, yet the flipside is the greedy commerce aspect, with little connection to the very soul of art, or the language it speaks, yet this film connects us in so many mysterious ways.  With the director examining Italy’s postwar transition to modernity, one must ask why these treasures remained untouched for two thousand years.  When did people stop seeing their history through art, or lose their faith in the sacred, instead viewing objects only for their economic value?  As Arthur begins to question the morality of his actions, the film asks us to change our own viewpoint and look below the surface, much like Marcello’s Scarlet (L’envol) (2022), as poetry should be the tool that frees characters from the weight of history.  The ensemble acting is a highlight, featuring emphatically strong performances, where the presence of Isabella Rossellini is simply a treat for the eyes, yet Rohrwacher introduces her older sister Alba in such a compelling way, as she comes to represent the heart of dishonesty in contemporary culture, becoming a kaleidoscopic mosaic that is so beautifully woven together.  This film was surprisingly overlooked at the Cannes Film Festival, premiering on the final day, winning no awards, yet may be the director’s crowning achievement, potentially with a larger impact than all the other awarded films, yet fewer will see it, as it strives for the heights of such transcendent works as Tarkovsky’s ANDREI RUBLEV (1966), a perfect blend of history and art, though this feels a bit like Icarus flying too close to the sun, getting scorched by his own ambition.  The cradle of ancient civilization comes alive in this film, yet questions its place in the postwar twentieth century, as materialist profiteering stands in stark contrast to spirituality and religion.  Today there is a market for ancient works of art, but largely through illicit trafficking, in particular archaeological sites that have been neglected or abandoned.  In Italy, artifacts of historic value belong to the state, yet art trafficking is a larger problem than drug trafficking, with much less risk, though harder to prosecute, as the wheels of justice spin very slowly.  Arthur is different from the rest of them in that he belongs neither to the territory nor to the gang.  For him, there’s always some trepidation about what lies underneath.  What he seeks is neither profit, money, or adventure, but something else altogether, driven by a deeper need, as the past and present, reality and myth, all blur in Arthur’s quest for the unobtainable, becoming a guardian of art in pursuit of something he has lost, like opening a door to the afterlife, as myths reveal a profound truth, that humankind is in search of its soul that was lost long ago.  The exquisite sympathy of the final moments is profoundly moving, as the meandering structure all comes together in a cohesive whole, overflowing with symbolism, where the seemingly random side journeys all make sense, offering unexpected implications, creating a powerful yet carefully choreographed accumulative effect that is unforgettable, growing richer for the meticulous detail, but also the force of its message.  It’s not just death, but an idea of what lies beyond that is fully integrated into life, becoming a sacred place, like the memory of a lost love, where there are so many layers to this film, and so much joy, challenging viewers into the cavernous regions of our own souls, reminding us what a touching and violent thing humanity is, guided by a careful hand at the helm, as Rohrwacher may stand alone in contemporary European cinema, lovingly conveying the complexity of character while also knowing how to evoke a deeper meaning of the everyday.  This is a film that flies in the face of so-called perfection, inspired by a road not taken, where it’s the flaws and imperfections, and the jagged edges that make it so compellingly human.