Silent Light’s critics come in two distinct camps: the fawning elite with endless patience for Reygadas’ opening five minute shot of the heavens giving way to a mystical sunrise, repeated at the close like a stage curtain used to mark the viewer’s transformation to another world and back again; and those with disdain for Reygadas’ “artistic wank” and heavy references to Carl Theodor Dreyer’s 1955 classic, Ordet (The Word), which showed at the Brooklyn Academy of Music last month. The New York Time’s Manohla Dargis dishes over-the-top raves and tacitly sidesteps Silent Light’s theology. So does Martin Scorsese. No one, it seems, knows what to make of the film but that it is beautiful. Labels: anabaptists, reviews
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