Sailor Radley’s review published on Letterboxd:
so many little cycles left unfinished and motifs left unresolved. red shoes and bathrooms and football and showtunes and hot chocolate. Not wanting to be touched or looked at. Compulsive obsessions that enter for a second before leaving without explaining themselves. the film is almost a sort of pseudo-space: songs and images switch in and out of diegesis, and some are left in a hazy, poetic limbo. sometimes new images will overtake existing ones, but only for a second: memories overwhelm the frame for the duration of a zoom in, and then recede just as quickly. Scenes fade in and out of each other like a childhood memory. There’s something juvenile about the film’s atmosphere: binary actions create binary responses. There is no anchor point.