There's the great movies with a capital "M" (Casablanca, Strangelove, Kane) and then there's the great movies which feel like they've been made for the deepest, quietest, quirkiest parts of you and you alone - the small gems. And this one, in my view, is the sparkliest of these gems - a little masterpiece of a rumination on just how beautiful things can be when disparate paths in life intercept each other just the tiniest bit out of phase, never perfectly according to plan, and on how the deepest transformations seem to proceed from the smallest disjoints of orientation and expectation. It is a beautiful dollhouse of a film, whose success lies in its excruciating attention to and understatement of detail. Beautiful Mark Knopler strains suffuse the film's quieter moments, while subtle performances and simply lovely dialogue provide the backbone.