Trilogia II: I skoni tou hronou

One thing you could always say about Angelopoulos movies is that Greek melancholic reverence could be felt with a naked eye in almost every single one of his pictures. Dust of Time is so detached from its subject that it is an absolute shame that this is his last picture. Especially considering that half of it, or maybe even more, is in English. Dafoe tries, but there is nothing for him to act as he solemnly glances around with awkward delivery, seemingly never changing his coat throughout the entire movie.

Splitting the timeline in many periods where Angelopoulos is seemingly preoccupied with doing summersaults to show totalitarianism in such an exaggerated farcical manner that you can't even take any of it seriously in good faith. Especially that bizarre allusion in the sci-fi x-ray search scene. One too many unpleasant airport frisks?

The present is preoccupied with an awkward love triangle where truly ancient actors play against 40-year-old Irene Jacob, who is so uncomfortable and unconvincingly aged up that it's hard to believe someone so dedicated as Theo would go for it. I guess he really liked the actress.

As a sequel to Weeping Meadow, it's just aimless. Almost nothing is brought up or expanded on. And the ending, despite its undeniable beauty, still comes off as desperate. It is never a good sign when several characters die seemingly of sadness for the sake of a very plain metaphor about past becoming negligible.