“It’s hard, isn’t it? Being a person.”
There’s this magic to film that sometimes lets you follow someone. Not an actor telling a story, but a person living through events. Where the meaning isn’t told to you, but it’s shown to you with a camera and you get to feel it like a moving painting. Something can really stir in you if you can see yourself or the world around you represented. I think what I really mean is that this movie felt impressionistic to me, and it really hit on some experiences that really resonated.
“Do you wish you could unknow me?”

Beautiful movie about a horrible, terrible person. Simon Rex knocks this out of the park. Sean Baker really knows how to drop you into Real Town, America, and bring you into their lives.

“No one asked you to suffer. That was your idea.”
I don’t remember any of my shifts going like this…

A beautiful exploration of love and dreams and passion and the terrible reality of war.

Holy “every frame a painting,” Batman. The cinematography and dialogue are absolutely entrancing. Everything about this film perfectly reflects the pace and romantic banality of the lives and interactions it presents us.

This time around, I still had trouble letting go of what I know about Miyazaki and his history and trying to make the pieces make sense… but I was able to feel more of the world he built for us. Still not clear on our character’s arc, but it was definitely clearer when I wasn’t dozing off from jet lag.

Decently written continuation of the original with a ton of early 2000s effects (not in a good way but I wouldn’t say exactly a bad way, either) and some really good camera work.

Absolutely masterful use of light and the camera to follow a beautiful human and haunting story. This felt a Sean Baker film but more in all the right ways. Not better, just more.

A slow, beautiful build. At first, I related to Nora - getting out to see the world and then wondering about the people I’ve left behind. Then, I saw myself in Hae Sung - longing for what could’ve been and never really pursuing it. Then, I thought I was Arthur - anxious attachment might as well be my middle name. Then I found myself swirling in the themes of how our decisions shape our lives, and how it’s okay to reimagine them, but I long for the peace and acceptance that comes with truly being okay with where you end up.

I forgot just how tender and beautiful and heartbreaking this is.