A Pigeon Sat On A Branch Reflecting On Existence

This year has by far been the worst year in movies. The wife and I average going to the flicks about twice a month, one of the few affordable means of entertainment at our disposal- and FWIW, we usually do not attend the Hollywood blockbusters. This year we went one, two, three even four months without even one worthwhile offering, catch something fair to mediocre, and then another months' long wait...

Desperate to relax and watch something fun and/or compelling, I stumbled through the usual Netflix offerings, and decided to chance upon something with a most decidedly dumb name. First off, if you're not a fan of deadpan humor, look elsewhere- for this is deadpan stripped bare, concentrated and... relentless. No pratfalls, no one liners, no fits of uncontrolled laughter. The scenes in A Pigeon Sat On A Branch Reflecting On Existence are prolonged, often repetitive and overbearingly slow. And I loved (almost) every goddamn second of it.

For one thing, it is one of, if not the most beautiful film I have ever seen. And it is the subtleties of the visuals in every scene that outright mesmerizes, despite the purposely laborious pacing. One is immediately absorbed by the pastel color schemes, particularly the repetitive pea green motif; each scene shot wide with enough details to counter the intoxicating sparsity of action, dialogue and story line.

Noticeably photographic in its aesthetics as it may be, it's definitely not for everyone. But if you want to experience something truly unique and visually compelling, not to mention a wickedly perverse sense of humor, you're definitely in for a treat. Oh, and the last scene is as surreal, unexpected and foreboding as it gets.