The Box ★★★★

keeps appending increasingly baroque moving parts to what was already a fairly complex narrative machine until we feel almost as suffocated as the characters themselves, and ends up as a very moving aestheticization of the violence inflicted in service of maintaining the comfortably upper-middle class family unit, recognizing it as both material, deeply embedded in nationalist frameworks, and inextricably spiritual. after we have thoroughly destroyed each other something worth living for is promised to us in death, “a place where the sidewalk ends and despair is no longer the governor of the human heart”. infinite worlds possible

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