Vignettes, sometimes connected… or maybe they’re all connected, but since they’re all populated with similarly pale-faced middle-aged people, I can’t recognize recurring characters. A chill, pleasant-voiced female narrator redundantly tells us the basic idea of each scene – I think she might be the person flying over the city in the opening scene / poster shot.
People are sad or tormented or drunk. Not sure it’s all happening in the same era – I was not expecting Hitler’s bunker, for instance. Not sure it all adds up to anything either – “I saw a man who had trouble with his car,” then geese fly by, a choir rises, movie ends. Maybe it’s less of a movie than a mournful motion painting to quietly contemplate.
Michael Sicinski on Letterboxd:
Apart from the major throughline of the priest (Martin Serner) who has lost his faith — a problem that a totally-administered society has no time for — there is a complete lack of narrative progression in this film. One could take it as a formal return to Andersson’s commercial-advert style, or a series of short films yoked together under a general theme … we are intended to experience them not as sequential but as a core sample of humanity … his title is a clue: this is a film that could conceivably go on forever.