Unsere Zeit

As an Australian watching this narrative unfold in a Mexican life unknown to me was both refreshing and original. Especially the cinematography and slow yet precise direction. Kudos.

Last month each viewing of The Souvenir lifted me one step into an aesthetic that I couldn't initially appreciate. And now it's happening again, with Our Time, by Carlos Reygadas. (The reviews on Metacritic are abysmally low.)

My first viewing, last night, was similar to that of at least one reviewer. In the middle of an interesting or puzzling shot, your heart breaks open and you haven't the faintest idea why. Has the spaciousness of the landscape prepared you? Or the passage of time? Or the tension? At the end (or in my case, as always, the next morning) you are left with such sadness. For...? For the human condition?

In his first sentence one reviewer calls the film "spiritual." Yes, at times wasn't there the sense of something beneath the surface, silent, all-embracing? Needs to be seen again.

All been said before, right, especially as regards adultery in the cultured classes?

Not with Reygadas. Here's a man who's really prepared to give the genres a nudge, really has the chops to pull it off.

Starting with no intro, and seemingly innocent scenes of kids playing at a lake, Reygadas carries 170 stylish minutes better than most directors carry 90.

There is a narrative arc, but Our Time deliberately operates at its edges. Characters argue off screen. Husband writes to wife. Does same, to wife's lover. Daughter comes on, for a couple of voice-overs. There's horse- and cow-play aplenty, often bearing a jagged relation to what's going down with the humans.

Reygadas still needs his get-out-of-jail card, to take the movie to the next level. This arrives with a late detonation, when the husband visits a dying friend.

As a full on movie addict, it's a surprise to feel sudden tears, in real time. This did it for me. One to remember.

Masterpiece. Dark. But amazing. Reygadas as always plays with the language of film.

Carlos Reygadas's cinema is one of meticulous observation and grandiose revelations. Casting himself and his real-life wife, the Mexican auteur boldly explores with spellbinding visuals the dark corners of relationships, dissecting patriarchy along the way. A domestic drama of majestic proportions.

Carlos Reygadas has become one of the greatest film-makers of our time. All his films have been great works, but this is his first masterpiece, exploring most of the same central themes of marriage, fidelity, infidelity and ranching that his two previous films ('Silent Light' and 'Post Tenebras Lux') have, but with more coherence and focus than 'Post Tenebras Lux', and more depth than either of them.

Nothing about movies engages me as much as masterful cinematography, and I've encountered very, very few directors whose cameras have awed me with their grace, uniquity and creativity as much as Reygadas has with his more recent works. The visual texture of the Digital Cinema Package format is definitely a hindrance, but this is easily the most visually astounding film I've ever seen made with it. Over and over and over again, I found myself asking 'How in the hell does this man DO it?'