Watching this film feels like sitting for three hours in a sauna waiting for something that never comes and that I don't even care about.
Usually, I love contemplative film where nothing happens. But it should come with a mastery in mise en scene, and a certain sobriety. Artistic boldness should still hold the audience for the duration to the very end. Yet this film offers nothing beyond its self-indulgent ravishing photography. The filmmaker clearly wants to inflict suffering on the viewer, but this experience is purposeless. And this sense of purposelessness, which one may assume is the philosophical meaning that the film tries to suggesst, is forced upon the viewer through half-hearted dialogue. In fact, the dialogue didn't hold enough attention in relating to the material around it to make it interesting.
It's simply an international coproduction by a Vietnamese filmmaker indented for highbrow international critics and festivals, made for the sake of being clever and 'cinephile'.
