Glory Hallalutchie, this little transcendental, slow-plotted, no music score, foreign-language indie has a shot at an Academy Award. How’d that even happen? Here in ‘merica I mean. Because here, if it doesn’t have superheroes, vampires, or naked boobies, it doesn’t register on the collective American retina. Slipped in under the wire most likely.
The thing is, if you’re smart enough to watch to the end, you’ll get to see two of the most riveting scenes ever. I guarantee, Bro, if you’re not sitting on the edge of your seat at the shank end of this flick, you are made of stone. Get your head out of the pavement and over to Netflix to check this one out. Remember: independent film is going to save the world. And you can save independent film. Or at least my film: Dust Nuggets. Please donate here: https://fiscal.ifp.org/project.cfm/1093/