fea 🕊️’s review published on Letterboxd:
brought a handkerchief with me because i just KNOW crying is inevitable at this point. but oh god i am such a mess. i don't know how to articulate this well enough but i guess in a few simple words; i am SAD. this unsettling feeling that has been clouding my mind the past few days. i was supposed to watch this with a dear friend of mine but sadly, i didn't. i am in shambles 😭 everyone look away!!!
i've always loved existentialism. whether it be in films or books, there's always this part of me who longs for something...more. like the idea of the multiverse. or the absurdity of parallel universes. it sounds odd but it gives me a sense of solace somehow. to know that we're not actually alone. i've talked about this with a friend of mine years ago and she thought it was silly. maybe if i asked her to watch this piece right here she would perhaps change her mind. the power of cinema!! in a way, this reminds me of two other films i've seen recently which are turning red and petite maman. they would sit at the same table for lunch. mothers and daughters. a fine study of the relationship in all it's awkwardness and sadness. it made me think of my relationship with my mum. it's not perfect. i think we tolerate each other but sometimes i wish it could be more. perhaps if we dwelled into each others' minds i could understand why she is the way she is. and perhaps, she could understand why i am the way that i am, if she does the same. we've seen countless of stories of how mothers are villainized. how a mother not seeing eye to eye with a daughter is often described as "she doesn't get me". but after petite maman, turning red, and now this, perhaps if there was more understanding, it's solely because a part of her is grieving. this insurmountable sadness rooted from her youth. you're experiencing it as well. and it binds you together, creating this infinitesimal space of understanding. acknowledging each others' sadness and trying your best to help each other escape that hollow feeling. it's like when the both of you are grieving, but the pain is bearable as long as we have each other. and it painfully reminds me of evelyn and waymond. to have someone see the ugly parts of you but would spend infinite lifetimes with you regardless. it really struck me, to be able to love someone wholeheartedly and be each others' epitome of home. it's tragically beautiful. to have these raging storms inside of you and the fear of it getting out. but it's fine because no other sadness in the world would do. i had a three hour videocall with my best friend last night. and even though we didn't particularly do anything, we both sat in silence doing our own little thing. just accompanying each other. perfectly content with each others existence. and i'm grateful to call her my home. i don't know if i'll ever find someone else whose silence i'm comfortable with. but i do seek for it in every new potential relationship i cultivate. whether it be romantic or platonic. because it's a language i'm fluent in. we can merely be silent and i'd still be grateful for your existence.
recently i saw a quote about how films sort of give you autonomy of your feelings. consuming fictitious events and untimely learning something about yourself along the way. using that knowledge to process and find yourself!!! and i love how i could apply it to this. i think it's the main reason why i love watching movies; just me trying to come to terms with my very own existence. it's one thing i'm good at. the weight of living disappears for a while as i watch movies. and i'm ecstatic to call it my way of escapism. it makes it all more tolerable don't you think?
immediately after watching this i went to the bookstore and got myself a book of franz kafka's stories. indulging myself with more existentialism. ironic isn't it?