A film of sublime beauty. Spiros Stathoulopoulos' exquisite film is not a meditation on faith, nor on romance. It is simply a meditation. In extended shots of the awesome Greek landscape, mythical and epic in its very existence, we drink in a sense of place, unique and full of peculiar character. In wordless scenes of near-silence and apparent loneliness, we drink in the depth and passion of the faith that both binds and embraces these holy people. In tender moments of contact between a roguish monk and an impulsive nun, we drink in the extent of the dilemma that they must deal with, both mutually and individually. Their faith denies them what it refuses to exempt them from - rapture, devotion, emotional love, those things which their faith also demands from them. But physical intimacy, eroticism, desire... What can one do to purge one's mind of desire? What, when it has already been partly sated? Is love no longer love if it is denied? And if their god forbids them this, then why does he permit such temptation, wherein all of their profound spiritual understanding insists that they indulge, yet rules dictate that they do not? It is the sin of despair that will bear the most influence on their decision. Stathoulopoulos strives for artistic purity with every stroke, and is extraordinarily successful. The cinematography is resplendent to the eyes, the diegetic musical soundtrack appropriately divine to the ears. Handsome animated sequences are superbly drawn, and extremely expressive, and feel entirely congruous with the mood of the live action sequences surrounding them. Stathoulopoulos' depiction of romance is stirringly sensual, these two black-cloaked figures evidently desperate to disrobe and oblige their libidos. Just as stirring is his handling of the eventual scenes of actual erotic content, which are even more sumptuously sexy.
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