In a Mexican Mennonite colony, Johan is cheating on his wife with another woman, threatening his place in his conservative community. Tormented by his own guilt, he confesses his affair, but he does not stop, nor does he leave his wife who still loves him.
Reygadas' typically arresting widescreen visuals and the presence of non-pro actors speaking in German-derived Plautdietsch makes for an initially hypnotic combination, but the spell breaks its hold well before the end of the picture's inflated running time, signaling an endurance test for all but the most ascetic arthouse auds.
It's amazingly beautiful and it tests your patience; both things are par for the course with Reygadas, After that, you've either surrendered to his idiosyncratic sense of rhythm, or you're out of there.
Much of what happens in Silent Light can feel painstakingly mundane: milking cows, harvesting wheat, a long drive at night in and out of shadows. Yet throughout, there's a sense of something ominous impending, and while it remains gentle, the ending is genuinely startling.
The film was written, directed and somehow willed into unlikely existence by the extravagantly talented Carlos Reygadas, whose immersion in this exotic world feels so deep and true that it seems like an act of faith.
WHAT ARE PEOPLE SAYING?
Be the first to comment about this film.
WHAT ARE CRITICS SAYING?
Variety by
Salon by Andrew O'Hehir
New York Magazine (Vulture) by David Edelstein
Village Voice by J. Hoberman
The Hollywood Reporter by Kirk Honeycutt
The Globe and Mail (Toronto) by Liam Lacey
The New York Times by Manohla Dargis
Entertainment Weekly by Owen Gleiberman
The A.V. Club by Scott Tobias
New York Post by V.A. Musetto