The childhood segment that opens this, I felt, was a ten-star movie, a superbly strange horror seen in bewildering fragments through the eyes of a child. What especially makes it is the dreamlike giallo humour, particularly on show in Argento's Inferno, of the character advancing oblivious no matter how nightmarish and Freudianly creepy things become, and no matter how clumsily they themselves behave.
At the end of this part, sadly, as if not quite knowing what to do with the brilliant potential it's found, the film dissolves into abstraction, followed by two rather more mundane sequences from adolescence and adulthood.
There's still a lot to enjoy here. I really like it, especially that, at a time when so much art-house film feels leadenly stuck in numb, muted-colour naturalism, this is utterly wild in its deployment of current film and editing tech. If you're doubting whether movies can really astonish visually after the demise of celluloid, take heart. There are whole new worlds to discover here and Amer, while also owing much to the past, points the way.
Too bad then it applies this sensibility to more and more boringly disorienting strings of extreme close-ups, especially of eyes, and, mixed in the the bravura imagery, some that is really cheap and tacky looking, like student video in which they've tried to dress things up by bleaching it out too much and adding a sepia tint.
It feels like desperate and probably fairly conscious padding, because, unfortunately, there isn't anywhere near enough substance in the later sections to carry the day. Given that the first segment so perfectly captures the strangeness of a child's perception, a huge opportunity seems to me to have been missed to do the same for adolescence and adulthood. The closest we get is an acknowledgement that teenagers are very interested in sex, and, well, duh.
