It's a journey through memory of someone that feels guilty of so many choices that he made through life and time. An existential reflection on aging and isolation, a Bergmanian cinematic poem about mortality and how it's never too late to get some kind of (inner) redemption. But help me with this one: did he really regretted not banging his cousin? Well, anyway... Ingrid Thulin was absolutely stunning and I shamefully confess I identified with that scumbag that said "my wife likes ridiculing me. I let her. It's psychotherapy"! A beautiful movie, but not the masterpiece I was expecting it to be.
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