Gena Rowlands’ performance here is lyrical. Every peculiar micro expression, every movement, every flicker of vulnerability - her facial features perpetually arranged as though she could begin sobbing at any moment. Mabel’s life is lived in bursts - whirlwinds of pain and confusion at her husband’s neglect and contradictions, an abundance of emotion that just has nowhere to go but to come up to the surface - and every molecule of it manifests in Rowlands’ face. If she is anywhere to be seen in the frame, you can’t help but fix your eyes on her. When she’s not on screen, you’re wishing she was.

The hard pill to swallow is that Mabel is hardly any more insane than Nick. God forbid a woman be filled with untameable whimsy! At no point does this feel like watching a movie. This is complete immersion in something real.