The Souvenir

It takes a lot of time getting there, but this shimmering drama is singular and unforgettable for viewers who are patient enough to wait for its rewards. One detail may clue you in on whether you might enjoy The Souvenir or not: Toward the end of the movie, viewers watch a metal door open for 20 seconds, and then there are another 20 before the main character walks through it and the camera cuts away. Of course, in the context of the movie, that long (long!) moment is a beautiful one: A woman we've gotten to know and sympathize with is leaving behind a troublesome situation and moving on with her life. Having watched her alternately struggle and stagnate for the better part of two hours, the opening door means something. But audiences who insist on plots ticking along probably will have likely already quit watching in frustration. 

Because it's true that this drama plays out in long, real-time scenes over cafe tables and in living rooms, with Julie and her family and friends chatting easily about art and life. For a leisurely stretch of The Souvenir, it's not even really clear what it's about. We know Julie wants to make a movie, and we see that she's privileged enough that she can take her time doing it, but she seems as unclear about what she wants to make and why as we are about where this story is going. Eventually, a romance emerges with a man who explains things at length to her and words the answers to some of her questions in a way that the audience knows spells trouble. And that trouble does arrive, though that's not to imply that the movie is predictable. Instead, like people themselves, it's sometimes frustrating and sometimes lovely, with conclusions that are neither easy nor simple and take a long time to show themselves.