Eva Zee’s review published on Letterboxd:
by all accounts a movie i should adore, and definitely one whose merits i can appreciate: the recreation of the format and style of a particular kind of documentary is so skillful that it only plays its hand as something else in the smallest of aesthetic choices, holding a shot just a bit too long or intercutting with just slightly more potency than its referents, and the emotional intelligence on display is obviously sophisticated, even revelatory at times. but i felt nothing more than this kind of distant admiration, and i really do have to be honest to that. i have no connection to this understanding of family, or grief, or mortality. that's not to say that this is an "incorrect" or parochial working-through of those topics, only to note that i am too emotionally far gone to understand the (relatively healthy and restrained) ways they operate in this film and in the lives of most people, i suppose.