A dying man in his forties recalls his childhood, his mother, the war and personal moments that tell of and juxtapose pivotal moments in Soviet history with daily life.
Life is cyclical and there is no death. All events are imprinted on each other, on oneself and others. You can talk about a lot of things, about every frame, but "the words are kind of sluggish." You just need to see the big picture, what you feel, understand in your own way, because your mind is also shown here in a confused way
Perhaps, at the time when this picture was released, it had weight and significance, at least because of the non-trivial manner of narration. But I looked at it these days and somehow I didn't see a genius creation. It turned out to be extraordinary about the ordinary. But we have already seen enough of such an extraordinary thing in the 21st century, and the film does not carry much deep meaning, so it's just boring