calamityhey’s review published on Letterboxd:
I like how Markopolous uses his portraits as a means of giving physicalshape to a specific community of artists, also like how this (mostly) foregrounds the artists' work and thematic interests over expository summations (more biopics should be disallowed sound). Sorta like Anna Magdalena Bach in that way, I think this has a bit more of a sense of humor that I can vibe with, though I end up with a similar complaint - namely its commitment to its form endeds up feeling tedious. These are aesthetics that I get and feel good about on paper, but in actuality these are aesthetics that I feel lose their intrigue after a few go arounds.
Strange movie to dedicate to one's father.