benschmidt’s review published on Letterboxd:
"One's never bored at a bar, unlike at a church, alone with one's soul."
Alone with one's soul, but also with one's desires and cravings. Sex is never shown, but the flicker of lust, the triggering effect of sounds she associates like carriage bells, are all extremely horny. The movie begins and ends in sexual fantasy. "Do you come here often?" "Every day in my thoughts." Not sure what to make of the violent melodrama of the end, the idea that woman's desire will inevitably be hijacked and controlled by men. That's it, I guess, that's the tweet. I love Bunuel.