This film is soaked in the cool machismo of its characters. It flows like a clever turn of phrase, like punchy slang, like a barrage of adjectives. It gestures with street-savvy swagger. The camera flies, stops, stares, makes ironic commentary with an angle or a lengthened take.
Have you ever peered deep into the eyes of a parent or grandparent and thought about the life they had long ago? A life before kids; before grandkids. A life you’ll probably never know. For most, that look has nothing to hide, but for others the life they once lived and the atrocities once witnessed will forever be etched into the complexion of their faces. You understand that these are moments of their past that to bring up now would only evoke sorrow. But what if you did find out? And what if what you found out was something you’d rather have not of known in the first place?
Hungarian filmmaker, Béla Tarr, represents everything that is right with contemporary cinema and through the international film festival circuit he has garnered critical acclaim as well as developed a strong reputation based on his very unique sense of directorial style. Despite Tarr’s small scale successes, as Peter Hames points out, his films will forever run into funding problems and stand a zero chance of obtaining wide theatrical releases or airing on television (Hames, 2001).