“You see? This is a Dalmatian inside a pool. Have you ever seen a pool turn on its side? The image turns, the glass turned on its side, a change of perspective. See that? It’s a movie theater. The surface of the water undulating like a movie screen. The water line is the screen: that’s where the images are projected. The images are two-dimensional. But where would the sound be? The sound waves spread throughout the theatre. They’re mechanical waves that spread throughout the entire pool. You see? Talking films have always been three-dimensional. The space you see on the screen is an illusion. You understand? An optical illusion. That’s called “perspective.” But the space occupied by the sound is real. The sound waves touch the viewer. Sound is the tactile and three-dimensional component of cinema. Infinite darkness.”

—Lucrecia Martel, La Pileta Invertida

(emphasis mine)

1. We were already in the city and nothing else was playing.
2. Entered the theatre late, immediately fell asleep.
3. “Poetry comes from insecurity,” the woman says.
4. This was not a mere experience: it is an event.

5. The film begins in medias res.
6. The film begins as though waking up from a dream.
7. First there’s a myth then there’s the man born from it.
8. An accidental encounter leads to a seasonal purpose.

9. “No matter how many pieces you compose,” writes Asaka Takemitsu, “it means nothing if
your compositions don’t become a real sound,” the same of which can be said of this film:
that no matter how many beautiful moving images you compose, one after the other, it
means nothing if you can’t produce a single authentic feeling.
10. Here, the prince, who wants to be king wants to be French and has body dysmorphia.
11. Here, the only valuable insight is that once you manage to successfully run away from a
conventional suburban life, you won’t want to stop.
12. There’s no redemption here: just casual chaos.

13. The hands that opened the film reminded me of the hands in the films of Bresson.
14. ”I’m sick of being a trademark,” she said, “married to a slogan.”
15. This is a man who, in his free time, reads Marcel Proust and listens to Marlene Dietrich,
haunts Les Deux Magots with his eccentric friend whom he quotes Sartre with, and whose
perceptions, every now and every then, are invaded by their memories of May 68’.
16. They don’t make films like this anymore. And that’s okay.

17. Films like this are about the failure to connect.
18. It’s about faith, in a sense, but also what happens when you give into temptation and step out
of a role assigned to you, and the consequential fallout of that decision.
19. It’s about miscommunications, but ultimately has no real message at all, is compromised by
genre conventions averse to a lick of tedium, a forgettable farce.
20. It’s about the anxiety of coming out not only to your family, but, also, critically, yourself.

21. It’s not enough to have someone believe in you if you don’t believe in yourself.
22. This is a film that has the length of a feature but the depth of a short.
23. This is a film where the making of the film is more engaging than the film itself.
24. This film is for the hopeless romantics, the dreamers who get drunk off their own delusions.

25. It’s for the losers, the rejects, the under-estimated, those who’ve lost the spark.
26. It’s a film that dips its toes in the water but never has the brawn to submerge itself.
27. It’s a film that tries to serve many masters and disappoints most of them.
28. This is not that kind of film.

29. This film is attuned to the beauty of the human body, in cutting it into delectable pieces.
30. A film that depicts the life and work of an artist must find a way to replicate a modicum of the beauty of that very mind, the imagination at work, and the paintings here are short-
changed in favour of the development of a cringe melodrama fit for the Hallmark channel.
31. Things are taken away and things are added and certain arcs form—like that on-going tic-tac-toe game—but ultimately what Wenders wants to tell us is that the only way to get through the unbearable reality of living is to see the beauty in the mundane, in the shadows of a tree waving in the sunlight, in patience and observation and human connection.
32. There can be a sort of sublimity to the texture of all this suffering.

33. The best scene in the film is when a student, gone rogue, takes his laptop and smashes it into his homeroom teacher’s face—resulting in a black eye—and then rapidly flees the scene.
34. The most effective part of the film is the dramatic irony: the believability resting upon the fact that an affluent, seaside town only had one resuscitator and two places it needed to be.
35. The heart of the film is the hustler, who manages to get by, but is undone by his gambling addiction and his inability to control his anger whenever his masculinity is threatened.
36. The real lesson of the film was about the hive mind, of how quickly one can be de-influenced to be influenced again, how popularity and fame work, the brutal truth of it.

37. But the film never goes anywhere with its conceit until the final moments.
38. But by that point the film just takes over and happens to you: the narrative elements fall like dominos, and the stakes are always in flux.
39. But as the film progresses it actually becomes something else altogether, something elaborate and—as one character likes to so often say—elegant.
40. But then the film abruptly decides to jump whole years, building up to this supposed climax that had no prior narrative investment.

41. Remember: novelistic filmmakers often dispatch short stories in between major projects.
42. Remember what Petzold said about people being in transit making them interesting: it’s true; but here the walking woman is met with stagnation: a young man against authority.
43. She’s trying to remember the name of a Bette Davis movie and it opens up things between them, the banter and bickering, before the poison starts leaking out and all over the rugs.
44. This isn’t the masterpiece I remembered it to be.

45. But let’s remember the indelible image when they are forced to hug in the bushes with pink roses and white flowers as a line of school children walk past, chanting a graceful song.
46. But let’s remember the scene when the air doll leaves the theatre after watching Singing in the Rain and the world just seems magical and you want to look up at the sky, awe-struck.
47. But let’s remember the odd angles, the orange tree as a portal to the past, the way she’s un-afraid of shooting close-ups of faces; the attunement to detail in the sound design.
48. But remember that for Ozu a banal experience as innocuous as commuting into the city everyday for work can become a place for all the elements of a film to blossom before you.

49. But when it comes to representation, this film does matter, for I’ve never seen someone on screen spread their ass cheeks to a webcam so that a man can masturbate to it: reminding me
of my days web-camming, and how immediately after the bossy men ejaculated they exited the chat, disposing of you as soon as your use was done. It’s hard to know if what you are
doing is right or wrong in a world that constantly reminds you you have no autonomy.
50. In a sense, you could say, representation does matter.
51. You would think watching a representation of your life would be fascinating, but only to a certain point, because Carol says she came to the centre hating herself, and that now she can bring herself to tell herself that she loves herself, but that could never be me.
52. Sometimes representation doesn’t matter.

53. Sometimes censorship makes a mediocre work more interesting than it really is.
54. Sometimes it is a relief to kill your object of desire rather than to detach from it; sometimes that can actually restore the balance.
55. Sometimes you do not make the right decisions, or fall in love with the right person, or choose the right project, but by the time you wake up it’s too late: the curtain has already de-
scended and you are behind the fence, behind which you’ve experienced your entire exis-
tence.
56. Sometimes the artist needs to be challenged by the critic to do more, say more, be different, because the intelligence is all there, the content is lucid and the form is even-handed, but
there lacks a certain depth, a patience, a different kind of shaping, another tool to carve out her statues, another pose, posture.

57. Like their first kiss, for instance, when, all of sudden, through superimposition, we see a row
of four doors open up in her mind, melting the ice around her heart.
58. Like getting into an argument with your lover right after blissed-out sex.
59. Like strawberries that shouldn’t be consumed in hot weather on the beach.
60. Like the flowers in the field on the night of the full moon.

61. Time flew by; tears fell from my eyes.
62. The pictures were very pretty and the music made me feel lots of feelings.
63. “Something in me has crossed over,” Thelma says: and there’s no going back.
64. That she happily goes back home is beyond me: I’d live in Oz for the rest of my life.

65. Their dreams come true in the end, even if they had to go to hell and back to get there.
66. The everyman’s dream becomes one man’s nightmare.
67. The chandelier goes up then comes crashing down.
68. In the end we all end up in the asylum.

69. It doesn’t end in death the way a lesser film might, but with her being delivered to her new captor, who believes in the spirit of family, for people these days are living in a dirty way.
70. To leap towards and into the void is a point of joy: to keep on going even if it means death is better than being caught, returned, kept, settling back into the monotony of the diurnal.
71. There’s no sex and hard drugs (just beer) or death (just a bit of punching and blood) so it’s tame; but it’s very faithful to the feeling of being a youth in a multicultural suburb: I know
people like this, I used to be like this: you just want to reach out and tell them that there’s so much more to life than The Present.
72. Death is calorie-free.

73. The audience applauded, enthusiastically.
74. I felt like slapping people afterwards.
75. Afterwards I ran into a friend in the lobby and asked her what she thought of his films and she said at this point they all blended together, so much so that she couldn’t tell the difference anymore, but it didn’t matter much, because, she giggled, she liked them a lot.
76. This film inspired me to buy a dildo afterwards, and how many films can you say that for?

77. I felt good about the film after seeing it, but during the Q&A, a white woman stood up and said: “I’ve never been homeless before,” and it entirely changed my mind about its utility.
78. “It didn’t need to be so long,” was something that I heard audience members say to each other afterwards; but that feels redundant when you realize that the film was about time, that it tried to infect us with that sense of dread, the languor, its passing through our mind.
79. When the two lead males started to kiss, the straight man sitting behind me said: “Oh no,” and after the movie ended he said: “Well I guess it doesn’t matter who wins.”
80. The audience I watched it with laughed a little too loud when he said “dyke.”

81. This film will work if you believe the subject is as remarkable as the filmmaker thinks she is.
82. Trimming the fat off one’s vision does not necessarily diminish it: a director who knows how to restrain himself knows how to pay attention: clearly and cleanly.
83. The easiest way to get out of a hole the film has edited itself into is to place it into the realm of dreams and—eye-rollingly—force us to ask what was real and what was not.
84. “Is it wrong to want more,” a Feist song goes: and for some people, at a certain place in a certain time, the answer is yes.

85. I was surprised when it ended and asked my partner: “All that for this?”
86. What I’ll say is that the depiction of what it’s like to be in a loving gay relationship is accurate—watching TV eating pizza for instance—especially the fact that it can begin with one party being closed off, afraid to let someone in, to trust them, but then being taken by surprise and taking that decisive leap and finding a rare, genuine sort of happiness.
87. “He does not see me for all I lack,” she says, of her illegal mer-man.
88. In truth I don’t remember much about this film, I seem to have left my body the entire time, but afterwards my partner and I reminisced about our early days together, when we courted each other with gestures like so, and so, for being able to unlock a few memories, go over the details once more, compare our personal notes, I don’t regret watching it.

89. What I confirmed for myself is that the problem with twists and turns is that once they’re revealed or known, more often than not, the film no longer works as well.
90. What the film is most successful in is staging a friendship between a homophobe and a homosexual ghost that can only take place in the fantasy world that is cinema.
91. What the film succeeds in creating is a sign for the ages: the ball at the centre of the racquet that signals to the characters, and us, its meaning: the moment of revelation, where all of
them pass information through looks alone, from this side to that, is so stunning to see.
92. What I was delighted to see were the shots of pure poetic beauty: the rainwater falling into the street; opening the window to see the reflection of a window-washer; the orange telephone; the shiny purple straps of the mother’s sandals; the way a sharp pen pierces through a sheet of paper when you cross everything out; of taking books down from a shelf but being too busy to do anything about it; the photographs flapping in the wind; the vase, with a bouquet of white roses, shattering from a gunshot; the extended shots of luscious armpit hair.

93. You have to open your eyes, the film says: you have to bring in the sheets.
94. “You have a lighter,” she said: “But no light.”
95. Reader: I was swooning.
96. The narrative was circular; cyclical; slight.

97. The actress returned to her life; the moderator to her desk; and we, too, were relieved of our duties as spectators…admirers…critics…fans…dreamers? What is it called?
98. I never want to watch this film again.
99. Who knew that all we needed was a happy ending on a Tuesday night in the spring?
100. “Success,” the publicist’s message read: “You’ve been added to the audience.”

*denotes a film with more than one appearance
1. Rounders (1998)
2. Rosita (1923)
3. Sans Soleil (1983)
4. Lawrence of Arabia (1962)
5. The Inheritance (1980)*
6. Death in Venice (1971)*
7. Monkey Man (2024)
8. Metropolitan (1990)
9. Maestro (2023)
10. Mishima (1985)
11. The Sweet East (2023)
12. The Zone of Interest (2023)
13. Pilots (1995)
14. Design for Living (1933)
15. The Mother and The Whore (1973)
16. Ghosts (2005)
17. Mommie Dearest (1981)*
18. The Night of the Iguana (1964)
19. Anyone But You (2023)
20. Happiest Season (2020)
21. An American in Paris (1951)
22. Handling the Undead (2024)*
23. Burden of Dreams (1982)
24. Magnificent Obsession (1954)*
25. YOLO (2024)
26. Migration (2024)
27. Inside Out 2 (2024)
28. Agent of Happiness (2024)
29. Love Lies Bleeding (2024)
30. Maudie (2016)
31. Perfect Days (2023)
32. The Spirit of the Beehive (1973)
33. The Teacher’s Lounge (2023)
34. Magnificent Obsession (1954)*
35. An Autumn’s Tale (1987)
36. Ladies and Gentleman, The Fabulous Stains (1982)
37. Handling the Undead (2024)*
38. Cuckoo (2024)
39. SPY X FAMILY CODE: White (2024)
40. Priscilla (2023)
41. Spellbound (1945)*
42. Crossing (2024)
43. Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf? (1966)
44. Safe (1995)*
45. Jerichow (2008)
46. Air Doll (2009)
47. July Rhapsody (2002)
48. Early Spring (1956)
49. The Feeling That The Time For Doing Something Has Passed (2023)
50. Mommie Dearest (1981)*
51. Safe (1995)*
52. Layla (2024)
53. Summer Palace (2008)*
54. Laura (1944)
55. May December (2023)
56. Maya (2018)
57. Spellbound (1945)*
58. Red Rose, White Rose (1994)
59. Death In Venice (1971)*
60. Killers of a Flower Moon (2023)
61. To Be Or Not To Be (1942)
62. Poor Things (2023)*
63. Thelma & Louise (1991)*
64. The Wizard of Oz (1939)
65. Ishtar (1987)
66. Dream Scenario (2023)
67. Johnny Guitar (1954)
68. Messiah of Evil (1974)
69. Quartet (1981)
70. Thelma & Louise (1991)*
71. Gamma Rays (2023)
72. Club Zero (2023)
73. Barbie (2023)
74. Poor Things (2023)*
75. Dreileben 1 (2011)
76. Drive-Away Dolls (2024)
77. Someone Lives Here (2023)
78. Do Not Expect Too Much From The End of the World (2023)
79. Challengers (2024)*
80. Bound (1996)
81. XiXi (2024)*
82. The Empty Man (2020)
83. Only the River Flows (2023)
84. First Cow (2019)
85. XiXi (2024)*
86. All of Us Strangers (2023)
87. The Shape of Water (2017)
88. The Idea of You (2024)
89. The Handmaiden (2016)
90. Marry My Dead Body (2023)
91. Challengers (2024)*
92. The Terrorizers
93. Oppenheimer (2023)
94. Summer Palace (2008)*
95. The Last Emperor (1987)
96. Dreileben 2 (2011)
97. The Inheritance (1980)*
98. That Day On The Beach (1983)
99. Gilda (1946)
100. N/A