listen! we'll tell you the last, the most beautiful and secret story. a story that gets smaller and smaller, it comes inward instead of opening like a flower. it is a flower becoming a seed—a little, cold seed.

oh, how deliciously this film renders the temptation to sink into a crystal drift, to smother the hostile noise. here, in this sheen-white, obliterated world, snowflakes curve around your body, they recruit you to the void, whispering: nothing loves you, and nothing…