It truly baffles me that this was considered "lesser" Kieślowski upon release. Not only are all of his signature nuances at play, but they are at their most powerful. Kieślowski manages to make a film of masterly precision, yet simultaneous freedom of conventional narrative devices.
Every scene flows like graceful poetry, shifting in and out of differing realities. It is a dream, a study of existence and consciousness, a ballet of imagination, ideas, and philosophies, and above all else, a subtly rapturous portrait of self-reflection. It is a film to be pondered upon, evaluated, re-evaluated, and so on. Alike Kieślowski’s other films, he doesn't reveal every, or any, definitive answer. This is easily his most enigmatic film, and for me, his greatest achievement as an artist. Now on to The Decalogue.