Dust in the Wind by Hou Hsiao-Hsien, with its gradual depiction of heartbreak & its deep melancholy, strikingly evokes how one's plans & aims can be irreparably lost by fate. It's rare to find a film where one can feel the characters trying to save the present moment & impossibly attempt to hold dear what will inevitably fall through the cracks of time. A film any filmmaker would be proud to call their own.
Hsiao-Hsien crea historias sobre relaciones familiares en base al tiempo. Está esa constante relación entre abuelo y nieto, el primero aferrado a sus tradiciones, el segundo marcado por una suerte de desapego a su realidad. El protagonista de "Dust in the wind", similar a otras películas de su director, está cegado por el conformismo, algo que al final de su historia repercutirá en su historia de amor.
Love. As ephemeral as the light. Dust in the wind, etc. What a scorcher. This thing is a muted sorcery. A cast spell. I needed to watch a man emerge from the narcotizing thrush of love into the hard light like a newborn screaming from the womb. And I needed it tuned just right. I needed to right timbre. Quite a leap forward. Hou is a God-like person. One of the real ones.
Tunnels are entered and exited, bridges are crossed and epochs passed in existential vicissitudes heeding not to take a single present moment for granted. 'Dust in the Wind' humbles the human experience in his futile resistance against fate, leading to a poignant final snapshot of a time and place dislocated in the past but rediscovered again as an unearthed postcard in the grandiosity of the cosmos.