The Fall

I have genuinely never seen cinematography as beautiful as this. Every single frame feels like a painting. The colours are impossibly vibrant, yet they never exist just to look pretty. Every shade, every costume, every location creates the story. I spent half the film completely mesmerised by what I was looking at. My eyes have genuinely never been so satisfied watching a film. The locations are some of the most magical I have ever seen on screen. It feels like stepping inside a children’s storybook, except every page somehow looks even more breathtaking than the last. The costume design deserves endless praise. Every character feels handcrafted. The attention to detail is extraordinary, and every costume tells you something about the person wearing it. Nothing feels accidental. At the centre of all of this is Roy and Alexandria. Their relationship is one of the most beautiful father daughter dynamics I have seen, even if they were never truly father and daughter. Roy is broken in every possible way. After becoming paralysed, he has lost not only the use of his legs but also any desire to keep living. The fantasy story he tells Alexandria slowly becomes a reflection of his own mind. Every hero, every tragedy, every impossible obstacle mirrors the pain he cannot bring himself to say out loud. Alexandria, with all of her innocence, slowly changes that story without even realising it. She refuses to let it become hopeless. In so many ways, she saves him. Not physically, but emotionally. She gives him something worth staying alive for, and I was so relieved when he chose life in the end. Watching someone rebuild the will to live through the imagination of a child is devastating and beautiful all at once. When Roy said, “There is no happy ending with me,” I cried “Get up, Daddy.” “I’m not your father.” “It is my story.” “Mine too.” That absolutely destroyed me. Roy wearing eyeliner might genuinely be one of the sexiest things a man has ever worn. What amazes me most is how perfectly this film understands colour. So many films use colour to be aesthetically pleasing. This one uses colour as emotion. As memory. As hope. As grief. I honestly cannot think of another film that wields colour with this much confidence and imagination. I would happily read this as a novel. The fantasy narrative feels like an old folk tale or a children’s classic, filled with strange adventures and unforgettable characters, while simultaneously carrying an emotional weight that completely shattered me.