Philbert Dy’s review published on Letterboxd:
There is nothing more honest than a thought, and nothing more deceitful than a memory. A memory is something imagined that we pretend is foundational to who we are. But thoughts are who we are, unvarnished and imperfect, escaping through the chemistry of our brains, becoming manifest without the benefit of form. They are temporal, existing for only a moment before being replaced by the next thought. It won't always be logical, but for the moment, it's just true. That's what your brain spat out, and it cannot be denied.
"I'm thinking of ending things." There goes a thought.
She traverses memories. Not her own, but of Jake's. The road is treacherous. There's a blizzard out there. It's Brr in here. He won a medal for being diligent. There are lambs that froze to death in the barn. There is a place where pigs used to be. There is a basement, and he doesn't want to talk about it. They met at a trivia night. They met when she was waitressing. They met when she was out celebrating with a girlfriend, and he was a creeper. They met. They makes movies about this stuff.
His father is looking forward to not being able to remember that he can't remember things anymore. And maybe she is, too. For now, she traverses memories. He takes her to an ice cream shop. To his old high school. Pauline Kael talks through her. He keeps reminding her of the chains. They'll be okay, because he's got chains.
"I'm thinking of ending things."
It's cold. Her coat keeps changing. She keeps changing, but it never stops being cold. Maybe she should settle, maybe she should try a little harder to make it work. Maybe they can live out a cinematic dream. Maybe they can have a happy ending. It's a thought, at least. Something her brain spat out that cannot be denied. But here comes another. And another.