A slow moving, beautiful painting.

"A film to die to." - Keith Uhlich

Heartbreaking in its look at coping with loss and mortality. Its usage of nature to express mood and what its characters are going through makes me think of a Terrence Malick film, only this is far, far more minimalist.

I have to admit this is somewhat light on content. But it is breathtakingly gorgeous. Images are filtered through a gentle haze, and much of it is shot with an odd skewed effect, as if viewing it from an extreme angle. Sounds gimmicky, but it works beautifully, creating a mild sense of disorientation, and giving an unusual perspective. One of the most painterly movies I've ever witnessed. Requires some patience, but if you just chill out and let yourself become absorbed, it's well worth it.

#750

It's short and has absolutely unique and mesmerizing visuals, those two things are reason enough to give it a go. Despite some touching content it does get pretty tedious though, with the pacing slowing to a crawl without much narrative reason.

I always had a hard time imagining how hell looks like. Now I know. It's a screening room where you are forced to watch this and "Goodbye Dragon Inn" like Alex in "Clockwork Orange" ...for eternity. Just thinking of that makes me shiver.

I'm, uh, struggling for words...to say the least...but if that isn't one of the most beautiful films I've ever seen, and one of the most moving films I've ever seen - heartbreaking in its look at coping with loss and mortality - then I don't know what is. Its usage of nature to express mood and what its characters are going through makes me think of a Terrence Malick film, only this is far, far more minimalist.

Exremely low-voiced, taciturn and sore - "pure cinema", one could possibly say. The expressionistic images, the silence (only periodically broken by the melancholic music by Mikhail Ivanovich), and the unhurried pace together creates a peculiar mood of peaceful yearning... The film may not be as intensely resonant as some of Tarkovskys diligent meditations, but it is, at least, delicious to see how Sokurov give the images so much value and the words so little significance.

This cinematic whisper from Alexsandr Sokurov depicts the final hours a son spends with his dying mother. There's no story here, just a situation, and it is rendered as series of long, carefully-composed shots of unsurpassing beauty. I've never seen a movie that looks quite like this one. It's shot with different lenses to extend or flatten depth, through glass filters that destabilize the image, creating a precious waver.