Eli Hayes’s review published on Letterboxd:
It will mystify me, ‘till the very end, how certain pieces of art can reach people at such specifically significant times, as if spun down from the sky manually, and at a predetermined moment, by the threads of fate. How much hyperbole can one man use? Except, sadly — deeply, deeply unfortunately — these words may be the least hyperbolic I ever type. I mean every word of this diary entry with the utmost earnestness.
It took each last ounce of energy in me not to leave the theatre; at times, I could barely bring myself to stare at the screen. At others, I realized I was forgetting to breathe. This film is far, far beyond too much: I have been watching movies for as long as I can remember, I have seen probably a dozen thousand films or so in my life but, until today, I’ve never been brutalized & emotionally devastated by a work of cinema to this extent.
The tears started flowing within the first two minutes, and did not let up for the duration of the entire runtime. Honestly have not felt such strain in my muscles during a viewing before... I wanted to explode out of my skin, and scream myself into a million, minuscule mineral particles. This was, bar none, the most intense, stressful, tragic, horrifying, sobering, masochistic, and immeasurably cathartic experience that I’ve had in all of my movie-watching years.
If you’ve been through a divorce, serious separation, or anything of the like, proceed with unmistakeable and unrelenting caution. I could hardly bring myself to appreciate the remarkable humor in the film, as I was so mentally distraught that my mind state was bordering on hysteria. Unfathomably powerful torture and truth.
I will love you, forever & always,
even if I never see you again, "even
though it doesn’t make sense anymore."