Something genius about this film in how effectively it accumulates suspense on such a scale simply by feeding the audience information that is prohibited from the characters. training your eye to pick out the killer far away in the background of a crowded coffee shop of blurry faces. you feel rex's desperation but it becomes distressing when you as the audience know he's actually in spitting distance.

some insanely well crafted sequences using just a simple age-old trick. one moment…

This film put significantly more thought and complexity into it's depiction of rape than I ever would have expected. The scenario being a simulated scene for a movie, a scene that she is shown to reluctantly give consent for, and yet is still depicted as deeply traumatic and horrific - is still explicitly depicted as rape - really surprised me. It felt profoundly sympathetic and seemed to hold appropriate disgust for the tendency of the above conditions to be used…

A film more interested in the psychological impact of the atomic bomb on its creator than its genocidal impact. Why did we need this ?

I'm ashamed to admit that I was overly optimistic of this film going in. also I don't want to act like I'm the most educated on any of the topics I'm bringing up here because I'm definitely not as much as I could be.

I'm mainly just confused as to why, of all the perspectives…

I'm in love with the scene of the two sat in the ocean together.
Two individual notes of an unruly orchestral whole.
The film is a gradually evolving quiet that slowly submerges you with perpetual cadence as it laps the shore.
Peaceful, rhythmically shy and intoxicating. Existing within reminiscence; licking at the chops of memory. As if through reflections of water (and tv screens), the film combs through recollections of trivial events from a young girl's holiday with her father.…