Stiklo salis

In STIKLO SALIS (the title was translated in the print I saw as A LAND OF GLASS) a woman lives with her husband, young daughter and newborn son in an isolated house surrounded by an icy, wintry landscape. She's suffering from rather severe postpartum depression. Her husband disregards it like a headache, and her gynecologist takes advantage of her need for connection by starting an affair with her. Things happen, but not in such a way that they constitute a conventional story; yet it's also not really episodic. A moody, oppressive, disengaged, and rather cold atmosphere permeates the short but slow-paced story, and as the heroine's condition worsens she becomes a less and less reliable narrator.

The photography is also strange and beautiful. For most of the first half of the film every indoor setting is bathed in a thick blue light while characters are almost always lit in bright orange. Later other colors are introduced in what appear to be very significant ways, but I would have to see the film again to decipher their possible meanings. The sound mix is also meticulously crafted; every effect is absolutely vital to the way the film comes across, and a lush, solemn, and at times almost mystical score really completes the package. All in all A LAND OF GLASS is quietly astonishing.