“Cries and Whispers” feels too slow and self-indulgent at first, but gets considerably better during its second half, with a weird aftertaste that lingers for hours.
Despite being dominated by an overwhelming shade of bright red, the cinematography feels bleak and cold, with long silences emphasizing the sense of emptiness. Typical Bregman-style monologues and confessions lead most of the narration, but a lot is also left unspoken: the camera bothers to show us how the characters constantly have dramatically different reactions to what is happening around them. In a way, it feels like they are equally suffering from the loss of Agnes as well as their own life condition, but have three different ways of facing it.
Karin acts austere and distant, but is actually consumed by both her self-hatred and jealousy. As she was raised by a neglecting mother and paired with an indifferent husband, she is completely unable to have real interpersonal relationships with anyone around her.
Maria struggles at keeping up the facade of the perfect wife and loving sister, but is nothing more than a hypocrite with a chronic sense of dissatisfaction. Unlike her sister, she looks confident and aware of her charm, but her indifference leads everyone around her to hurt themselves.
Anna appears as the only person who truly cared for Agnes, but her warmth and care seem to be just a way to fill the void left by the premature death of her daughter. She is the only positive character in the whole film, but somehow Karin and Anna are the two I end up feeling for the most, their words and actions touching my soul on a deeper level.
An emotionally draining and weary film to watch, but that will definitely leave something to chew on afterwards. The ending shows us one of Agnes’ last moments of happiness, but after all we learned about her sisters, I couldn’t help feeling the void.
Review by manicureVIP 4BlockedParent2021-05-01T14:21:13Z
“Cries and Whispers” feels too slow and self-indulgent at first, but gets considerably better during its second half, with a weird aftertaste that lingers for hours.
Despite being dominated by an overwhelming shade of bright red, the cinematography feels bleak and cold, with long silences emphasizing the sense of emptiness. Typical Bregman-style monologues and confessions lead most of the narration, but a lot is also left unspoken: the camera bothers to show us how the characters constantly have dramatically different reactions to what is happening around them. In a way, it feels like they are equally suffering from the loss of Agnes as well as their own life condition, but have three different ways of facing it.
Karin acts austere and distant, but is actually consumed by both her self-hatred and jealousy. As she was raised by a neglecting mother and paired with an indifferent husband, she is completely unable to have real interpersonal relationships with anyone around her.
Maria struggles at keeping up the facade of the perfect wife and loving sister, but is nothing more than a hypocrite with a chronic sense of dissatisfaction. Unlike her sister, she looks confident and aware of her charm, but her indifference leads everyone around her to hurt themselves.
Anna appears as the only person who truly cared for Agnes, but her warmth and care seem to be just a way to fill the void left by the premature death of her daughter. She is the only positive character in the whole film, but somehow Karin and Anna are the two I end up feeling for the most, their words and actions touching my soul on a deeper level.
An emotionally draining and weary film to watch, but that will definitely leave something to chew on afterwards. The ending shows us one of Agnes’ last moments of happiness, but after all we learned about her sisters, I couldn’t help feeling the void.