Coppola has made better films, obviously, but this is the first film I’ve seen from the director that I feel truly connected to. With Godfather and Apocalypse Now, my love for those comes primarily from the sophistication of craft and technical proficiency, but I feel connected to this almost purely on the emotional level. 

I don’t say this in a way to discredit the technical aspect either. The visuals feel like a complex marriage between classic noir, German expressionism, mixed with Ozu’s eye for aesthetics. The clouds gliding through the sky, the sun setting over a cityscpape in stark contrast, raw emotions and memories represented through scarce splashes of color, the passage of time illustrated through long, invasive shadow creeping through the frame. The decision to release this bold, avant-garde, tone poem, this dream-like collage of style, after his most successful string of films makes me respect Coppola even more. Unbridled creativity for its own sake. Lush imagery in love with itself. Visible passion. I live for this type of filmmaking.