The directing is so aesthetically beautiful that I rewatched the film the moment it ended. At times, I struggled to tell who was who whether it was the narrator or his son, his mother or his wife but strangely, that ambiguity didn’t take away from the experience. In fact, it almost felt intentional, as if Tarkovsky wanted the lines between memory, identity, and time to blur.
The directing is so aesthetically beautiful that I rewatched the film the moment it ended. At times, I struggled to tell who was who whether it was the narrator or his son, his mother or his wife but strangely, that ambiguity didn’t take away from the experience. In fact, it almost felt intentional, as if Tarkovsky wanted the lines between memory, identity, and time to blur.