This Sunday, the rain falling on Salonika is the color of dusk. Alexander, a great novelist, prepares to take his final leave of the house by the sea where he has lived all his life. He comes across an old letter from his wife Anna, in which she writes about a summer’s day thirty years ago. It sets Alexander off on a curious journey in which the present and the past are intertwined. By following the chimerical words of his novels, he has let the happy moments of his life slip through his fingers. Moments he wants to retrieve, for a day ... for eternity.
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"Light years from the world of television (no close-ups), commercials (no jerky cutting) and standard narrative technique (no conventional continuity or psychology), Angelopoulos makes the sequence shot sublime, breathes soul into the pan, mummifies the characters, evacuates the frame, populates the soundtrack with offscreen voices, outflanks the actors, slams genres together and explodes chronology. The result is melancholy and slow, dark and hieratic with flashes that stab like shards of glass. It’s as though the sole purpose of this alienation were to engineer the most overturned connections the human mind is capable of making. This stream-of-consciousness cinema composes an elegy to humanity with its bruised childhoods, sold-out revolutions, defunct loves, trampled hopes and utopia reborn."
(Jacques Mandelbaum in “Le Monde”, October 29th 1998)