Unity A lonely bath in a remote beautiful forest, under winter snow, spring rain, summer heat and autumn fading. The seasons change, the conversations remain – about life, death, pain, loss, love. In the bath, not only the body becomes clean, but also what is inside, not spoken, a hundred times deliberate, hidden. Frank talk clears the mind, encourages, gives strength to live another week, month, one season, until the next time.
The face (sometimes only a silhouette) is visible only in the speaker, all our attention, all our hearing, our eyes only on him. Here you can tell everything and get free. Each monologue in the film becomes so frank, all-encompassing, concerning absolutely anyone that it seems as if nature itself, the very female being that everyone has, is talking to you. The stories seem painfully familiar, the intonations are too close, the emotions are too fresh – all of us have experienced this, just not used to talking, letting it all go with water and words, words, words. The topics are raised so intimate that at first there is confusion, which, however, quickly passes. In this bath, you will not be judged, only regret where you regret, laugh where you can laugh. And even though you did not go to this bath, did not cleanse the body, but the inside still seemed cleaner, it was worth becoming part of this unity, this being. It is already clear that you did not feel this pain alone, did not fear this fear, all this is common, feminine.
Throughout the film, we see mostly the face of the woman drowning the bathhouse. It, like a bath in the wilderness, absorbs words, pain, despair, laughter, joy, acceptance, disappointment, love, hatred, fear, anger, patience – all that is made of life beyond these wooden foggy black walls. And this woman cannot hold back tears.
The seasons end on a fresh summer morning. How much I would like to get there, in the same bath to the same sisters.
I recommend it.