L'éternité et un jour

What a beautiful film. Dreamlike, poetic, wise; also sober, down-to-earth.

Delivers home-truths too: connecting with another human being gives one hope. Connections are possible across age, country, culture gaps. The images are gorgeous, the slowness fits. You have to sit on your impatience now and then. But thats entirely worth it.

Also, I loved listening to the Greek language. But that is because I love Greece.

It is a film that reminds me of Antonioni's L'Avventura and La Notte; they bring you into a trance where you can tell the beauty of this universe.

Since I traveled to Prague in 2003 and bought Eleni Karaidrou's album "Eternity and a Day" I was wondering when and where could I get this movie.

I got it and it was incredible for me. Poetry, photography (I think it is the best photography I've ever seen in a movie) and music in an amazing movie THAT I DID NOT UNDERSTAND because it's in Greek (no English subtitles in the release I've got).

You don't need to understand their words to feel it, to cry and to laugh when the moment comes. Angelopoulos has made, in my honest opinion, a master piece of theater-movie.

Buy it, keep it, show it to your children, to your parents...

This film was such a pleasurable experience to watch. I was expecting a considerably depressing venture but the end left me filled with a variety of conflicting emotions, including a hint of rapture and a dash of melancholy. There are times where Angelopoulos left me contemplating about the life I have led. To many critics, the pace of this film was too slow, on the other hand I felt that it flowed beautifully, taking its time to arouse the audience's emotions. The music by Eleni Karaindrou touched my soul for it was able to guide the actors to make a truly magnificent tale from the heart.

Not as heart-warming as "Kolya," nor as powerful as "L'Avventura," but still a movingly worthwhile experience. The leaps from one point in the hero's lifetime to another are poignant. Many of the directorial flourishes are quite memorable; the wedding sequence is not to be missed!

Our hero, Alexos, exists in the present urban world in which the weather is gloomy and almost everyone wears black; but his mind wanders to the past, where the sun infallibly shines over the shore and nearly all wear white. Yet when Alexos imagines himself in his past, he's still shrouded in black; he can't even dream that he could be happy, until a street urchin appears to rattle him from his shell.

This film does contain elements we've seen before, but arranges them in a fresh way. It reminded me how precious and fleeting each moment really is, and how wondrous it can be to share our moments with others.

A film straight from my dreams, drifting in and out of logical existence into the land of the dead. The story, as much as there is a story, involves an aging poet (played by European film staple Bruno Ganz) who has a terminal disease. He is apparently destined to die tomorrow, and we spend his final day following him, from his waking to midnight. Early in the morning he picks up a young homeless boy, an Albanian refugee, who tries to wash his window at a stoplight. Together they go on silent adventures. At regular intervals the film flashes back to Ganz's interactions with his beautiful wife, who never appears in the present, nor do we find out where she is. Most of the film's power is visual and aural. It is truly a sensual experience, along the lines of a Tarkovsky film. Because of its sensual prominence and lack of a coherent plot, it will surely fade from the surface of my memory. However, it is guaranteed to haunt me for the rest of my life. 10/10.