Yep, here's comes another Portuguese Tsai Ming-Liang... Another guy that thinks it's pretty cool to make a whole movie out of two pages of dialogue; that believes that rainy days, blue-tinted cinematography, Satie-like piano and the constant droning of passing cars and passing trains are an original way of expressing the anguish of modern urban existence; that pointless boredom, however well filmed (as indeed it was) can ever be something different than pointless boredom. What is truly absent in this movie, besides poor little Alice, is a story, as ever that detail that is never allowed to get in the way of the Big Ideas, Big Characters and Big Images of our filmmakers (except João Canijo, that at least makes the effort of riping-off Shakespeare). All the artistry in the world cannot save such an empty, empty, object.
