TILL A DEATH

The actress (Konstantina Stathopoulou -?) is incredible. The whole film rests on her face and voice. The way she touches her neck, as if checking if she herself is alive after slitting her husband's throat. It’s a very strong performance.

I love the color grading. The cold, blue-green tones in the interrogation scenes create a sense of deadness. The shot where she stands with her back to the window reminds me of Edward Hopper paintings, loneliness and isolation.

It's interesting how the journalist is portrayed. He barely speaks, just takes notes. He is merely a mirror for her confession. But the details of the crime are shocking: blood looking like a Christmas ornament. Brr.

The film brilliantly displays the mechanics of abuse. The line "He was the door" is a powerful metaphor for total control. The protagonist isn't just in prison now; she was in prison throughout her entire marriage. This is a story of liberation through violence.

Marriage is the lifelong and mutual surrender of sexual organs. That's a Kant quote, by the way. The film explores how social contracts turn into violence. The protagonist isn't insane; she just saw the absurdity of her existence.

I'm confused. One moment she's talking to a journalist, the next she's remembering rubber boots from childhood. Space and time really do lose their meaning as promised in the description, but watching this for 24 minutes is tough. Too abstract.

This is pure Greek Weird Wave. The dialogue is intentionally unnatural, almost theatrical. Comparing humans to cockroaches surviving on stamp glue is a high level of existential poetry.

Her calmness gives me the chills. The way she describes killing her husband with an electric bread knife...

I feel sorry for her. She says she froze her feelings like water to survive. This film is a cry for help that no one heard until it was too late. Very sad.