Window Boy Would Also Like to Have a Submarine

It seems fitting that a film this puzzling should have a review title as equally uncertain.

The trailer drew me in-it looked strange, intriguing, and unpredictable, so I had to watch. And while the film delivered on its promise of originality, I found it difficult to stay with at times. It felt like three films in one, operating on its own internal logic, untethered from conventional storytelling. That's not necessarily a criticism, but it left me unsure where I stood with it. It also lists "comedy" as a genre-really?

Visually, it's beautiful. Nearly every shot is framed with a fixed camera, and there's an unpolished elegance to the way it leans into natural or available light. It creates a mood-subtle, minimal, and deliberate. The sound design, too, is remarkably good: restrained, spacious, and clean.

As for the narrative-if there is one in the traditional sense-it's elusive. I had no idea where it was going, and just when you think you've grasped something, it shifts. This absence of clear direction can be refreshing, but the pacing tested my patience. Long, lingering shots stretch out scenes that could have said the same thing in half the time. More than once, I found myself fast-forwarding to get through a very long shot without dialogue.

It also gave the impression that the editor had been asked to use every piece of footage that was shot. There are scenes that, for me, simply didn't need to be there.

One aspect I especially appreciated was the scenes with the villagers-their dialogue around folklore, legends, mystery, and belief. While some might interpret these elements as primitive, I found them refreshing. They reflect something deeply human: the way many of us, in different parts of the world, make sense of events through internal systems of belief. The film doesn't explain or dismiss this-it simply presents it-and that, for me, was one of its more compelling touches.

There's a curious stillness throughout. Dialogue is sparse, especially from the lead, and many scenes unfold in silence. It has an eerie, ambiguous atmosphere-somewhere between fantasy and abstraction-but it's difficult to pin down exactly what tone it's aiming for. A more purposeful score might have helped draw out the emotional or thematic undercurrents.

I'm still unsure what the title refers to-even after watching to the end. I imagine it might make more sense on a second viewing or with the script in hand, which I'd genuinely like to read.

That said, it's a film worth watching, especially if you're drawn to experimental cinema or work that resists easy categorisation. Don't expect a traditional plot. You may not come away understanding it, but you'll likely remember its texture and tone. It's the kind of film you could leave playing in the background-dipping in and out-without ever quite grasping it. But maybe that's the point.

I watched it to the end on Kanopy, which is rare for me. Most of my films on other platforms remain half-finished. I stayed with this one, still wondering-right up to the last frame-where it was headed.

An arthouse film in which different stories intertwine in a cinematic labyrinth with minimal sci-fi and uses teleport techniques in narrative. The cruise ship in the seas of Patagonia is used as a hub that connects the three different places in the film, from the forest of Philippines to the Montevideo apartment in a South American city. The door which divides the different worlds brings curse and also luck to the characters who observe each other with uncertainty. This is all that can serve as a plot, but the movie does not depend on that. It is a heterodox narrative mixed with exposure of emotions using mythical and meditative rhythm to accentuate the film. It could even be said that the movie seeks to deepen emotions and fantasy and the translation of this often comes down to small stretches keeping up with the atmosphere and arthouse tone. The film transcends everything and looks more like a fragment of life captured on camera. Above all, it is a cinema of silence, beyond the mythopoetic imagery which in turn represents a form of telepathy even for the viewers using the initial calm before the storm aspect. It is a really sad to see that the first feature film of Alex Piperno, a Uruguayan living in Argentina took 10 years to complete the project which gives a limited hope for original content movies like this one. I love films when they bring together characters like a mosaic of different continents and a recurring theme. Sometimes i thought about Eduardo Williams's feature debut The Human Surge (2016).

Final thoughts, Alex Piperno's debut feature is part arthouse drama, part sci-fi, and part fantasy as though the characters from Pedro Costa's Fontainhas Trilogy wandered into a version of Twin Peaks directed by Apichatpong Weerasethakul or Royston Tan. Quiet, sublime and demanding are perhaps the adjectives that would best describe "Window Boy Would Also Like to Have a Submarine".

In an idea, which appears to be borrowed from "being john malkovich", released in 1999, a sailor on a cruise ship (daniel quiroga) finds a mysterious door. Which leads to a condo in an apartment building in montevideo. But there are people already living in that apartment, so it's rather awkward. And when he's in the condo, his co-workers can't find him on the ship! So now he's on probation at work. Beautiful mountain scenery from...? Uruguay, chile, phillipinnes. I'm not familiar enough with the countries to know which scenes were filmed where. Lots of discussion of dreams and curses; the locals are sometimes very afraid to do things because it might be dangerous. Lots of flashbacks to sacrificing various animals to please the gods. Very dramatic ending. It's all... kind of.. connected. Written and directed by alex piperno. Dreamy, trippy. This seems to be quiroga's first and only role. I'm not sure what just happened, but it was a fun adventure.