Apichatpong Weerasethakul’s film of memory is all pace, feel, moments, lingering silences. It’s oddly fascinating and I just love some of the Director’s techniques: How the camera will linger on a scene while the dialogue moves on to another scene altogether. The multiple panning shots, each revolving around statuary. The film emanates an abiding peacefulness.
The film’s narrative is given us in two parts. I use the word narrative for lack of a better term. There is no narrative as such. But a series of tone poems first at a country clinic, and then again in a modern hospital. Both versions vary in the details – and part of the charm of the movie is paying close attention to those differences.
The first iteration of the movie – the bucolic rural version – is ravishing to look at, and it’s with disappointment that we are taken to the more antiseptic version of the story for the second part – filmed in gleaming whiteness.
Not to be filed under “action” films, you’ve probably not had any cinema experiences remotely close to the style of this one. Be prepared for something completely different, and you just may be taken away to another place.
♦♦♦1/2 ⁄ ♦♦♦♦♦