As a cinematic choice, as a way of showing—and crucially, not showing—emotion, it’s one of my most beloved scenes in any film. I don’t think I can even express here how uniquely moving I found it then and still find it now: this showing, without showing. This grief that remains private, remains someone’s—this acknowledgment that the role of the cinematic spectator is not to always see everything, but to also sometimes bear witness to that which cannot and will not be revealed; reminding us that seeing is a feeling—and that sometimes the only way to really see is to feel it. Who doesn’t know
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