Two unfinished reviews that I had written about documentaries for Venice. Decided to try and finish them to the best of my ability, since I didn’t like having the drafts floating around my pages tab.
Despite a frantic opening scene of pitch black visual accompaniment to a 911 phone call expositing the death of the mother, the film resembles a fairytale. The lightness thereof stems from director Stephen Cone’s exuberant humanism.
On the Beach at Night Alone is a major Hong, now playing at LAFF.