User reviews

Of all the great Swedish filmmakers, none is quite as easily identifiable as legend Roy Andersson. He is known for his quirky yet miserable films where each scene -- or rather, vignette -- is done in a static, uninterrupted wide shot (barring a few highly deliberate exceptions) and showcases pale everyday Swedes with the weights of modern life constantly on their shoulders, but also ultimately basking in its beauty.

This is what made his Living trilogy iconic; About Endlessness (Om det oändliga) shakes things up a bit by having a clear leading lady, yet is still very much an Andersson movie. Like all his films, it seems so hopeless on the surface, yet we cannot escape the feeling that Andersson genuinely hopes that things will get better (suffering is simply part of the wonder). Another oxymoron is the deliberate "fakeness" of the visuals (the movie willfully looks like a stage play at points) versus how "real" the movie's being. As usual, the scenes range from simple to large and intricate - with entire lives going on in the background, usually indifferent to the main subject. The colors are as pale and sickly as the characters.

Now, I've been a huge fan of Andersson since I started the Living trilogy with A Pigeon Sat on a Branch last year (I'd say he's up there with the Bergmans and Östlunds of our sausage-shaped country). I then moved on to Songs from the Second Floor and eventually finished the journey with You the Living not too long ago. I adored all three and maybe it helped that I let each film sit with me for a while. I was ready to put About Endlessness on my 2019 list.

But since I checked on Andersson's catalog rather recently, and had seen his unmistakable style done in two more pictures before then, I'm sad to say a lot of what I saw in About Endlessness felt a little been-done. I've seen these maudlin Swedes in these hilariously sad situations before. I still enjoyed the cringe comedy, visuals, music, and the delightfully old-school Swedishness of it all, but it is no longer as extraordinary.

What sets this one apart from the Living trilogy, however, is the presence of a narrator who identifies reoccurring themes in all the vignettes, such as loneliness, love (or lack thereof), and faith. I have read that she is supposed to be an angel, and she seems to be experiencing a series of moments, similarly to how Dr. Manhattan perceives his own memories; we see past and present events in non-chronological order.

Strangely, this does not necessarily tie all the sketches together in an especially neat way. The movie may have felt more fully-realized if the different characters we meet ran into each other in sketches focusing on someone else. You the Living used this "hyperlink" method of tying together vignettes but my favorite instance of Andersson doing this must be the final shot of Songs from the Second Floor, which haunts me to this day. One might suspect that the vignettes we see here are scenes that Andersson deleted from his previous films since they didn't fit together with the rest anyways, but Andersson is hardly so thoughtless.

I will say this, though: this was an inordinately pleasant screening. The local multiplex didn't play it, of course (factory-made stuff like Charlie's Angels and The Lion King is clearly more important than art), so I had to go to the arthouse cinema/cultural center, where you can have a burger and alcohol before the film and whatnot; my first time going there since the Die Hard anniversary screening one year ago (I'll be there with someone special for their celebration of Akira next week, as well). I was the only attendee under 60.

Yes. We know Anderson and his style by heart. Yes, we love him with all our heart!

But... I was a bit de-mystified by the fact that in this (potentially very meta-physical) story-composition there was MANY TIMES a voice over telling us what we just saw on our own. Chances are I truly missed the point of this, but after few minutes I felt truly annoyed by it... "yes I see myself a man with a problem that is xy" I thought many times. Was this the point?

Overall, apart from the seemingly unnecessary narrator, some of the scenes were "too light" for my taste, but I guess taste is just taste. Young people, dancing in sunlight; young people staring at each other. More profanity without the dark, underlying melancholy. Most of his other scenes in older movies feature also way more "mystical" (unexplained/riddled) situations, might they be more absurd, more surreal, more melancholic, more dramatic. Many scenes in this film felt quite "un-dramatic"... but again, maybe this was his point, finally giving us more light, more normal situations, more insight into happiness?

Apart from this point ( that I maybe didn't get): loved the absurdity, some of the actors, most of the sets (splendid as ALWAYS), the groteque, the paintinglike style, the "Andersonesque" techniques to tell a story.

Maybe one of you "unlocked" the solution to this film's mystery?

31 vignettes that are a cross between the film Wings of Desire + paintings by Edward Hopper + a thematic apperception test.

The camera doesn't move.

The colour palate is richly muted.

Not a lot happens.

Some scenes are completely banal.

Some are fantasy.

Some tragic.

Still, it's engrossing in its quiet feeling of solitude.

Greetings again from the darkness. A quarter-century once elapsed between feature films for Swedish filmmaker Roy Andersson. He only directed a handful of short films between "GILLIAP" (1975) and SONGS FROM THE SECOND FLOOR (2000). Mr. Andersson makes Terrence Malick look prolific. He's certainly not a traditional filmmaker and this latest is not a typical movie. In fact, its highest and best use may be in a graduate Psychology or Philosophy class, so that the mental capacity of students can be stretched and tested to determine whether Andersson is celebrating life or bemoaning our existence.

The narrator begins most segments with something along the lines of: "I saw a man ...", "I saw a woman ...", "I saw parents ...", and "I saw a couple floating ...". These lead us into static one shot vignettes with little or no dialogue. For example, in the first segment, a woman on a park bench concludes with, "It's September already." There is a priest who makes a recurring appearance as one who has lost his faith. In another, parents have lost a son. The emphasis is on the artistic impression and one's own interpretation.

Over the opening, and again later in the film, we see a couple floating over the ruins of Cologne. It's Andersson's take on Chagall's 1918 painting, "Over the Town". Another segment is a recreation of Hitler's bunker in Kukryniksy's 1946 painting, "The End". These are simple, stark, low-key snapshots in time. The color palette seems to be off-gray, and the sun never shines in this world - there's no tanned skin in the bunch. Andersson offers just enough moments of hope/happiness to prevent this from being 80 minutes of full-on depression. We always think he's trying to tell us something, but can't always decipher what the intended message is. Like the best art, it's up to your interpretation, and surely dependent on individual perspective.

Release delayed due to COVID-19.

"About Endlessness" is a feature length collection of long static camera shots, each capturing a moment in the life of a human being. Some of the moments are mundane, some are disturbing, some are funny, many are melancholy. I was game to engage with the film's experimental approach for awhile -- it's like going to an art museum and having the paintings you're looking at come alive within their frames. But the concept eventually gets a bit monotonous and the film over stays its welcome by a good fifteen minutes or so. The compositions look absolutely gorgeous, though, even when what's on the screen is nothing but a simple, bare room.

Grade: B.

This movie is a thrill, trust me. I really wanted to watch this one because i loved its look and how unique and gloomy it is. The storyline seemed also really promising, something about human connection and our desire to understand life and explain its power and darkness and infinite but absurd beauty always gets. It is what makes "Synedoche, New York" or "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" so great. They are sad, but lead to a greater realisation about humanity or left things and questions to digest. I personally expected something of the same feel, but what I got was... a comedy? Now, now wait a minute.

This film is one of the most funny films of the year and what is so striking is that it magages to poke fun at people and situations but at the same time it is so consistent in its sad tone and it feels so clear and to the point. Its flow is unbeatable. Yes, its basically a series of short stories, two of which are exlored more. Some moments are everyday simple moments that we give zero attention, but they are presented i nsuch a poignant way that we see how we sometime miss the overall beauty of simplicity and nothingness, bercause we have the idea that the big moments matter and are of great importance and we are often so blinded by our sadness and everyday issues that we don't allow ourselves to take a step back, look afar and see that everytihng hides a beauty, from a historical moment ,like war images, to a walk to school.

Personally, I feel like I've missed so many good moments becauseI was stuck in small problems and rubbish and I forget that a conversation or a kind gesture might be what we need to feel so that we can deal with our sad and torubled lives. Maybe looking from afar at anything and stopping to try to deal with every single thing we feel or suffer from, can lead to a small taste of salvation.

The film talks about faith, religion, bureaucracy,politics, existence, identity, the desire to feel and love and experience and find importance in true beauty and search for a way to feel complete, but its tone is sad and funny and I really loved her voice as the narrator.

The sad blues, the stylish browns, the dark reds and finally the hopeful yellows create a brand new world so distinct but so familiar to ours. The consistency in the framing and presentation, the delicate and socially and politically active script with tons of funny and satirical dialogue and coscepts and the truly entertaining storytelling, lead the viewer to a significant, enlightening and kind of cathartic and profound experience about the human struggle and joy.I don't want to analyse or dig any short story up. Just definatley watch this one and experience it.

It's like the most fullfilling and beautiful poem cmae to life to tell its story in the most interesting and hillarious of ways.

It feels like telling a thousand cold jokes to an indifferent person.

Existentialism is over and very much alive at the same time in this movie. It was quite an experience to watch this at cinema.

Even though I really liked my first contact with his work, I think Roy Andersson might be one of this authors that make films that grow inside you after watching It when you reflect on them.

I am looking forward to see the rest of his work.

After watching Roy's other films I was really looking forward to this film - as some fans had said it was his best film ever. I set myself up for a treat. But I was let down. Yes, the art direction and acting are absolutely superb. But the stories didn't work for me. I was bored.

About Endlessness is something else entirely. It's a movie unlike anything I've seen and it makes me want to see more of director Roy Andersson's work.

This movie functions without a plot, and yet is very cohesive in the way it presents itself. About Endlessness is about being human; the best and worst, the loudest and the subtle, the physical and the emotional... It's a gallery of some of the most beautiful little insights into the human condition one is bound to see.

Watching this film was a perspective shaping experience, and is one that I can't wait to see more of.

Den er så magisk,tragikomisk,morsom & trist at jeg har købt billet til den igen tak for stor filmmagi Andersson.

Almost every scene in this film is a disappointment too me. With an exception of one or two, they all end without saying much or being very funny. It feels like Roy Andersson put together all the rejected ideas from his other films (which I love). I find most of it pointless.

Good scenography and acting as always though.

"In ABOUT ENDLESSNESS, similar vignettes are concatenated with an omnipresent female voice offering succinct statements. Here, the tone is more contemplative, mournful, finality seems inevitable. Hitler awaits his doomsday in the bunker, a crucifixion with a man carrying a huge cross who asks "what have he done to deserve that", an aftermath of a homicide, an elderly couple's visiting the tomb of their decease son, a priest has lost his faith and then is refused by his psychiatrist because it is not his appointed time."

read my full review on my blog: cinema omnivore, thanks.

In 2007, I watched Roy Andersson's 'You, The Living' in the cinema and fell off my chair laughing. 'About Endlessness', while structurally and formally similar, never matched that experience-eliciting only the occasional wry smile. For decades now, Andersson's films have followed the same assembly line process. Shot entirely in studios with ingenious sets and painted backdrops, his movies are a masterclass in control, with every scene meticulously crafted. Like von Sternberg before him, Andersson is perhaps the last of the 'control freak' directors. He refers to these carefully constructed scenes as 'complex images', where every detail is deliberately composed. Unlike outdoor shoots, where chance and spontaneity can affect the final product, Andersson's studio-based approach ensures that nothing is left to chance, and every visual element reflects his meditation on the human condition. As filmmaker Bruno Dumont once said, "We each and every one of us has a pendulum inside us which goes between grace and idiocy." Andersson's films embody that tension.

Reflecting on 'About Endlessness', I found it difficult to identify scenes that reached the calibre of his earlier films. His pinnacle of "grace" for me remains in 'A Dove Sat on a Branch Reflecting on Existence', where Limping Lotta serves shots to every man in her bar before they line up for a kiss. Similarly, the tablecloth-pull scene in 'You, The Living' is one of the funniest shocks I've experienced in a film. No scene in 'About Endlessness' delivers the same iconic power.

Some moments in 'About Endlessness' feel like excess baggage. A narrator describes a shameless office manager staring out of a window, but we are merely told, not shown, that she is shameless. Where's the magic that Andersson once conjured? In 'A Dove', he dissected modern fascism by showing Charles XII and his soldiers behaving monstrously in a contemporary bar, shattering the illusion of historical idols. In 'About Endlessness', Andersson revisits fascism through a tableau vivant of Hitler in the Führerbunker (based on a 1948 painting by the Kukryniksy group), but the scene lacks the incisive connection to modern cultural dialogue. Had this been a debut film, it might have been better received, but it comes with the weight of Andersson's legacy.

There are some compelling ideas in 'About Endlessness' that could have been explored further. One of the most intriguing is the replacement of the confessional with the therapist's couch-illustrated when a priest, struggling with his lost faith, seeks help from a therapist instead of his bishop or confessor. It's a symbolic passing of the baton from community guidance to individual reflection. Similarly, the film hints at the concept of endlessness as thermodynamic-a universe where energy persists long after humanity is gone, a secular replacement for the Resurrection. The modern reluctance of bystanders to engage in meaningful ways, fearing backlash in an increasingly polarised world, remains a potent but underexplored theme. Today, more than one Overton Window is open, leaving people unsure of how to interact with strangers who may gravitate toward opposing ideological poles.

While there are minor giggles, 'About Endlessness' lacks the magic, shock, and daring of Andersson's past work. It's possible he succumbed to creative exhaustion, understandable at 76 and struggling with alcoholism. Though it shares the same formal structure as his earlier 'Trilogy of Life', it lacks the visceral impact that made those films memorable.

That said, Andersson hasn't entirely given in to the post-human pessimism seen in the latest work in some of his contemporaries, such as Jonas Mekas. The dancing of the young women in 'About Endlessness' suggests a glimmer of hope-perhaps they represent a future where women's new freedoms are explored, and humanity's future is better stewarded. Or they might evoke the Three Graces of antiquity, symbolising Andersson, in spiritual crisis, finding solace in images of pre-Christian mythology.

This is really why I signed up to MUBI. Andersson's work isn't for everyone. A bit too avant garde, surreal, down right weird and okay fine it's all that, but indulge his work and you'll be rewarded. His latest About Endlessness follows his signature style of slightly hyper real looking shots, held with a locked frame for long periods of time, whilst sparse movement and dialogue sits within. These frames are made to be poured over, for meaning or simple appreciation. This is just the canvas though. Andersson's strength is what he paints on top. It's the patience in each scene, not hindered by the need to cut and trim with multiple cameras. Everything's allowed to breathe. So we get a varied cast going about their mundane lives. Sometimes with some dialogue, often in complete silence other than the sounds around them, usually with a simple narration. It's a wild trip to be honest from the waiter pouring red wine all over the pristine white table cloth, to the old man dragging a crucifix up a narrow hillside street as he's whipped. He's dreaming thankfully, but all the scenes have that quality to them. The priest who's lost faith, the boys yet to find love, the grieving parents, the woman with a broken shoe, they could all seem incidental. But then there's the floating couple above a war ravaged city where only a cathedral remains standing. On the whole it feels a little more accessible than Andersson's other films, but packs no less a punch. Some scenes will make you smile or laugh, others study in a confused awe. One or two will stop you in your tracks, for reasons of horror, sympathy or joyful retribution. You find yourself wondering which scene is your favourite, but it's impossible to choose. The shots with lots of people seem masterful in a way over the more minimal set ups, but there's always a control present that marvels. What does it all mean you might ask. Well that's the fun isn't it, whether trying to decide, interpret or simply immerse yourself in it. I'll shamelessly say I tend to favour the latter. These scenes are like paintings with a gorgeous even light and pale faced characters, but I'd say it's simply about people, moments, the things that make us human, that make us the same and distinguish us from others, all wrapped up in the fragility of our existence. Time is irrelevant. Maybe I'm wrong, who knows. What I do know, is that this is brilliant, a wonderful addition to Andersson's stunning body of work and I think we'd all rather be a tomato.

This perfect slice of life story vignette its so meticulous and purposeful just a series of random memories from a somebody's life, I never felt so identified with a movies plot before, its a movie about nothing and all at the same time, looking forward to see the other directors work.

This film consists of a series of dull static scenes shot under dim light. I didn't get any direct or subliminal messages whatsoever from the film. If there were criticism towards certain issues like religion, they could not be depicted in any worse fashion. Some people approach this film with philosophical attitudes to extol it. Well, here is mine: this film does not exist.

This is the first film by Roy Andersson that I have seen, and little did I know the strange treat that I was in for. I can't speak for his other movies but if, like me, you haven't seen any of his previous work, take a chance on this.

I'm conditioned to expect a narrative so when I realised that what I was watching was a series of mostly unrelated vignettes, I had to adjust my expectations. The film teaches you how to watch it.

The vignettes, written and directed by Andersson, are largely scenes from everyday life in which people seem to be trudging through a drab, unending routine when something, some shock, interrupts their life. In one a man calls out to a man he has not seen in years who ignores him, in another a man apparently angry about his wife talking to another man begins to slap her, in another a man simply has trouble starting his car. But it isn't all sad, annoying, or depressing - there are moments of sweetness and kindness too; a father stops to tie his daughters shoelace in the rain, or a trio of girls stop outside a cafe playing music and begin a joyful dance.

One of the few recurring threads through the movie is a priest who is losing his faith. We see him hit the communion wine out of sight of his parishioners. We see him pleading with a psychiatrist to tell him what to do (The shrink's response; "I have to catch my bus"). We begin to realise no help is coming. We are alone, and our response to that can be terror, or it can be laughter.

The scenes seem like they could taking place today so it comes as a shock when one is set in the closing hours of the second world war as drunk and defeated Nazi officers can barely rise to greet their leader; a Hitler, who stares uncomprehendingly at the dust shaking down from the ceiling as bombs pound overhead. (Kukriniksy's painting "The End of Hitler" brought to life.)

That sense of a painting being brought to life pervades every sequence. Almost all of the scenes have a deep depth of focus to them, with backgrounds stretching into the distance, and every part of the scene rendered in loving detail. I don't know how this is achieved but I know it's the only film for which I moved to sit right beside my big screen tv so as to be better able to take it all in (For which I was rewarded with the most exquisite detail.).

Beyond that attention to each inch of the picture, other formal conventions make themselves known across scenes ; characters with a uniformly deathly pallid complexion, static camera shots that push you to examine the edge of the frame where the action often begins, a voice over in which a near-emotionless woman tells us what we are about to see as if recounting a memory; "I saw a woman who had problems with her shoe". (And indeed she does.)

In one scene, a boy looks up from his reading to tell a girl that the first law of thermodynamics suggests that energy cannot be created or destroyed; it can only be converted from one form to another, and so perhaps in a thousand years, she will be a potato. She takes this in stride and advises "I'd rather be a tomato." That's about the tone of it.

Perhaps Andersson is telling us that, if God is there at all, he views our lives and our foibles through a dispassionate, ahistorical, lens with little use for characters, or their fleeting concerns, and he finds it all drily, darkly amusing.

This is a big downgrade from the Living Trilogy. Huge.

Someone else wrote that this is like Andersson took all his rejected scenes from the other movies and dumped them here so he could sell a few extra tickets.

He is almost 80. His best work is definitely behind him. Oh, what great work it was but this film just pisses me off.

Why do we need a narrator to explain what we see in every scene? Who needs art explained to them? It's an insult to the audience.

The production design is great. His living-painting syle where the camera doesn't move and all the action is done by the trick angles or the intricate, complicated moving of entire sets around. It is like no other. In some shots, the angles are even better or weirder in About Endlessness, but the story falls flat every single time.

I actually bought an early access digital copy of the film because I love the Living trilogy and I regret it so much. I felt like I was trapped in an endless hell of boringness until it just suddenly just stopped after less than an hour and fifteen minutes.

I should have felt relief, but considering I paid money for this content and I can't get a refund and now I have to stare at it in my collection for the rest of my life, I felt the opposite of relieved.

Roy Andersson is a sell-out. He ripped me off.

Roy Andersson is one of the big film-making geniuses. His style is very unique, anyone who knows his films can instantly see if something is made by Roy Andersson.

The very exact and painterly scenes and the very soulful dialogue. I never grow tired of it. It is for a niche audience unfortunately. I wish the general public loved his movies like I do. There is nothing like his movies. In every way. They are entertaining, but only for someone who can appreciate poetry.

Visually stunning! Minimal Dialog and minimal soundtrack to get in the way of the visual experience you enter into. The same visual style is woven throughout a series of "shorts"; some intertwined to the same storyline, some seemingly unrelated to each other. The style is grey/dull, muted colors, beautifully dark. Laughter, Tears, Shock, Calm, chaos, dream sequences, thought provoking. It had everything in one package.

Essentially, I felt like I was in an art exhibit. As if a dreamy photography exhibit had come to life. All moved so slowly you really got time to focus on the beauty of the continuous shot of each scene.

Near Perfect 10/10.

Did not like it. Like, at all. Couple of stars for the visual content. The images were well composed and pleasing to ones eye. Apart from that, a pretentious artsy tiresome tick-tack of the old clock.

I saw a movie that people who don't want to take the time to think would slam and be negative about it.

This is my second film I have watched from Roy Andersson and there is a magic to them so far that he brings along with cinematgrapher Gergely Pálos.

The director, writer, also acts in this one.

I do see a common thread about humanity, hope, community, and faith shared in the stories along with poking religion and medical systems as well.

Along with a touch of how we are all in the long run matter that will eventually become something new after our own deaths.

I don't understand the spiritual side he takes but I think the one vignitte about the priest's own beliefs might represent that as well.

I for one look forward to seeing more of his works and I have added both Roy Andersson and Gergely Pálos to my shortlist of works to follow.