Marcissus’s review published on Letterboxd:
I briefly checked the letterbox'd page for this before deciding on whether or not to watch it and glanced at the top review - "The most pretentious film ever made" - it solemnly says, half a star. Interest is piqued. The synopsis says "A man shuffles through a dream meeting various people and discussing the meanings and purposes of the universe", erection rising, well, whatever could this film be.
The number one rule of lucid dreaming they tell you is never lose sight of your goal or your ass will be teleported to the moon or some shit. The meat is all here but the lines are constantly shifting without telling anybody, the notion that there ever were any lines is a seriously daunting question. The names, the places, the people, the voices, the eyes, they all transform in a mystifyingly real way. I'd like to think all of my dreams are as esoteric and rabid, but it's a blue moon in Portugal if I can remember the faintest detail by breakfast.
Linklater lingers on responsibility long enough to make it stand outright. Responsibility to dream? To accept transience? To deny it? The chambers of this dream are wide and vast that cannot easily be mapped. Death dream-time is unquestionably one of the most horrifying and fascinating concepts to be slinking around my brain. I go salsa-dancing with my confusion. Mesmerizing isn't a long enough word.