Lola: "Die Tasche?" Manni: "Die Tasche." Lola: "Die Tasche." Manni: "Die Tasche." Lola: "Die Tasche." I'm in love with 'Run Lola Run.' It's a bizarre love that is so hard to explain, but what it comes down to is that Tykwer is so incredibly confident and in control with this movie that harnesses so many tools of cinema to their fullest. It is a thrillride, and the techno soundtrack is enough to make me feel like a Formula One driver when I blast it while driving down highways. The use of animation as a figural and literal dividing line between realities is as clever as it is charming, in all of its elementary-school drawing glory. The central conflict is melodramatic beyond perhaps anything I've ever seen before, and yet it is balanced by moments of unmatched groundedness. Lola's father first telling her that he never really raised her and abandoned both her and her lunatic mother was heartbreaking in how utterly subversive it is. Up until that point, it functions as an escapist thriller with glimpses of postmodernism in the form of snapshots into side characters' lives. This bank interaction embodies a kind of dramatic realism that multiple other scenes fit cleanly into as well: the pillow talks between Manni and Lola. They, too, are emotional fulcrums that balance out the thrill of the race against time and fate. They are brief interrogations into the concept of love rather than expressions of love, and frankly, we as the audience need that! Lola and Manni are so romantically obsessed with each other in the majority of the action of the movie that it would feel extremely over-exaggerated if there weren't any scenes that give them a basis to feel this strongly for each other. It is extremely welcome to see the laid-back, cigar-hazed, crimson glazed conversations in the bed where Tykwer takes a few minutes to explore and question if their pure emotional attachment stems from something real, from a purely rational angle. I think that gets at the kind of bizarre love I feel for this movie. As far as the pendulum swings towards thrilling cinematic pleasure we take from our characters' seemingly infinite capability and power, it also swings in the other direction towards cerebral and intellectually honest reflections of the limits of cinema and the limits of our characters. It engages my sense of curiosity just as much as it engages my primal craving of cinematic energy, which is no easy feat at all.