A lot of talk on Marija Kavtaradze’s Slow seems to have stemmed from the
fact that the Lithuanian romantic drama has a languid pace. Placing this
limitation of time is not entirely valid: how else do you tell a story that
is a microscopic study of a relationship with limitations? Given its
distant title, the film neatly earns its intimate revelations one by one.
Here is a director who is patiently inviting you to step back and fall in
sync with the development and urgency of a platonic bond that turns
romantic. Slow revolves around Dovydas, a sign language interpreter who
comes to assist a contemporary dancer named Elena. After their first
session with the students, Dovydas asks her out and Elena agrees. Their
connection is not laced, thankfully, with an awkward meet-cute setup, but
with instantaneous reaction and familiarity. “I had this strange feeling
that I had known him all my life,” is what she would say of this moment.
Then, Dovydas reveals that he is asexual- in a moment of tender
desperation. “I’m not attracted to anyone sexually, I never have been. I
like you, that’s why I’m telling you,” he tells her. She is taken by
surprise, and reacts with a streak of confusion. Love is not enough to
sustain this relationship. What else will it take?
fact that the Lithuanian romantic drama has a languid pace. Placing this
limitation of time is not entirely valid: how else do you tell a story that
is a microscopic study of a relationship with limitations? Given its
distant title, the film neatly earns its intimate revelations one by one.
Here is a director who is patiently inviting you to step back and fall in
sync with the development and urgency of a platonic bond that turns
romantic. Slow revolves around Dovydas, a sign language interpreter who
comes to assist a contemporary dancer named Elena. After their first
session with the students, Dovydas asks her out and Elena agrees. Their
connection is not laced, thankfully, with an awkward meet-cute setup, but
with instantaneous reaction and familiarity. “I had this strange feeling
that I had known him all my life,” is what she would say of this moment.
Then, Dovydas reveals that he is asexual- in a moment of tender
desperation. “I’m not attracted to anyone sexually, I never have been. I
like you, that’s why I’m telling you,” he tells her. She is taken by
surprise, and reacts with a streak of confusion. Love is not enough to
sustain this relationship. What else will it take?
