J’s review published on Letterboxd:
"why is the measure of love loss?" Jeanette Winterson once wrote and I let this linger as I rode the bus back home.
each one of us try to cope with the help of time, of people, of anything, and yet in a snap of a second go back to remembering. but life has its way of urging us on; there'll come a time where we pause and think we've forgotten and punished by guilt, are afraid of suddenly forgetting. A Ghost Story is a strange and transcendental experience -- its sublime soundtrack, the flickering stars across the night sky, the dancing iridescent lights on the wall, closures carving their way out of small wall gaps, its themes of existentialism subtly shimmer with the passage of time, and the physical laws of the universe breaking down and coming together. a vivid resonance of life and death as the bedsheet ghost looks through, a hundred emotions amidst its unchanging expression. you can't help but feel helpless as Rooney Mara's character eat a pie for almost 5 min with tears streaming down her face. you can't help but be haunted by your own ghost/s and admit to yourself that you have this desire, no matter how little, to leave something behind to be remembered when you die. you can't help but think nothing ever really matters but you keep on living anyway. you keep on going on even if you keep losing many people. the world doesn't stop. maybe creating memories and living through other people's memories for a moment are enough.
not gonna lie I cried myself to sleep last night so this is definitely my favourite film of 2017 (so far).
"I'm waiting for someone."
"I don't remember."