Where do secrets go, when both the keeper and the kept from disappear? Where do fallen whispers go, those which never reach another’s ear? Where do forgotten dreams go, once the sunlight shines through your eyelids like burning film?
The answer is simple: Kieślowski collects them, carefully, meticulously, with great love and precision, and spins them into a thread which he then stitches into the fabric of this film. The Double Life of Véronique is a beautiful composition of dreamy shades of yellow-green, innocent smiles, and cherished memories.
There is a soft magic at play here, one which stays with you long after the credits roll. There are no grand swooping gestures, no overarching lesson in morality. There is only life, riddled in grief and tragedy and a piercing feeling of disorientation, yet blooming with perpetual light.
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