“I’m a pianist, not a poet.”
The rhythm of the film is strangely reminiscent of a strange sort of tragedy, the constant pull and push between revulsion and intimacy, the tension between a fantasy and reality above the abyss between people. And then the dialogue flows back in to cut through deeply.
I stopped watching this film a few times before I built up the courage to finish it. It is unrelenting as it follows a sad, curled dream-life to its inevitable crescendo.
“After all, Love isn’t everything, is it?”
