Feb 222013



Ear-biting cold, eye-stinging sleet, choking rush-hour traffic, exhaustion, bewilderment, misplaced anger and a Spurs team 1-0 down in France: not the greatest combination of things to drag with you into a late-afternoon Bloomsbury cinema, not the greatest preparation for some arty, subtitled Japanese film. And, for an hour, the paceless, near-plotless, meandering series of clean, careful, exquisitely-captured family snapshots that Hirozaku Koreeda offers up seems deliberately designed to further bewilder and exhaust and enrage. Another two hours of my life I’ll never get back… Continue reading »


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