Hansen-Løve paints portraits of people with such vivid colors. Like with her other film I’ve seen, you feel every breeze, smell every flower, and hear every crash of every wave: she is truly doing it like no one else is right now.

It was pleasantly surprising to discover that this was rarely about Bergman at all but rather about a woman being stranded on this monumental artist’s homestead as a way to become inspired to re-examine her loves and the origin of her art. And despite its setting which was the genesis for so many hopeless masterpieces, the film never veers into the realm of despair. There’s always a certain beauty present, even in the heartbreak and uncertainty because yes, there is a certain beauty in heartbreak.

Krieps is undeniably fantastic here but it’s Wasikowska who really knocked me out, her gaze tells you everything you need to know. And, I have to say, I love Owen Wilson as much as the next guy but we really dodged a bullet with his dropping out of this because my god would he have been distracting and sort of a miscast.

Even with having only seen an embarrassingly low number of Hansen-Løve’s films, it’s never not just the greatest pleasure to spend an evening within one and to feel its heartbeat for a couple of hours.