Watching the film is frustrating because sparsely revealed backstories promise to be so fascinating. The film has a good aftertaste, though, as parents’ homes move from frumpy casual to airtight perfection to totally stripped and bare - the film ending with the sweet sorrow of a stuffed storage locker in Paris.
The precious moments of life are sufficient - no elaborate fantasy or high pressure drama is required. No one in this film is ever bored- so neither is the curious viewer.
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It’s more like a collage than an anthology of independent stories.
The intense, wildly different father and mother of parts one and two allow the absence of parents in part three to deliver a powerful wave of emotional loss that has totaled the bereaved children - possibly for their entire lives. One or both are druggies.
The declining competency/normality of the children progresses from each story to the next. The first adult child we meet is the only one who is married with children of her own.
The film works much better in memory than in watching it.

