YI JIAN’s review published on Letterboxd:
A dying man reflects on his life the way one studies his reflection on a mirror, but what happens when the mirror is already broken?
We get pieces of a larger picture, a gigantic painting that is simply impossible to be observed in its entirety. We get glimpses of emotions from that forgotten year, memories that only resurface during dreary nights, and lingering images -- a family gathering outside the house to watch a burning barn; water vapour left behind by a teacup slowly withdrawing from the surface -- timeless as the universe that contains them.
In fragments, a timeline becomes more convoluted than it already is, the film becomes impenetrable because to fully understand it is to have lived as the filmmaker himself. For now, I am content with just letting the (both visual and literal) poetry levitate me.
