And the Violins Stopped Playing

A patient, formally daring work — the cinematography lingers on empty rooms longer than most audiences will tolerate, but those who stay are rewarded with the most haunting final act of the year.

I walked in expecting another genre exercise and walked out feeling like I'd been eavesdropping on a confession. The lead performance is genuinely singular — a career-defining turn.

A few too many scenes feel borrowed from a better film, but the soundtrack and the production design carry the rest. Solid recommendation for fans of slow-burn European thrillers.