I've seen the film, I feel grief from having seen the film. I'm not trying to be funny: this film is a trash heap of lost opportunities. If only debutante director Eklund would have taken a leaf out of Andrei Tarkovsky's book and shot a scene for enough time to make time not matter, to go beyond the 101, this film would have been the better for it. This film doesn't truly and viscerally reflect the human experience. At the start of the film, characters speak about 'Fucking Åmål' (a.k.a. 'Show Me Love' in English), an exceptional Swedish film that stood out for its realistic use of dialogue, direction, timing, music, the demarcation between and transition from youth and adulthood. It dealt with sorrow and depression while (successfully) throwing humour in the mix. Everyone can relate with the film, which is today, decades later, alive and well. The only thing that film has in common with this one is that one of the main characters is named Agnes. In the 1950s, director Antonioni made 'L'Avventura', a film where girl goes missing and we follow her boyfriend and a fellow friend's search, it evolves into something far wider. It goes beyond audience expectations, even making sorrow and grief working in tandem with sexual attraction. Back to this film, the director should have gone in search of fewer yes-sayers who sucked up to him. This is a flawed mess of a film. Even the editing is dispassionate. Kids out of film school make more exciting stuff than this, a film with a very interesting basic plot, but a total let-down that not only goes nowhere but bores the audience and makes it give up. I know, comparing Eklund with Moodysson and Antonioni is brutal, but they had the good sense to listen to others and switch up what didn't work. This film fails on so many levels that I question whether Eklund is fit to make films; if this is his arena, he'd better get trustworthy companions who aren't afraid to jut their cheeks in and go to film school. The whole thing reeks of rich-director-with-weak-film-result. Grief, which partly is what this film is about, isn't this. Grief, as Max Porter puts it, is a thing with feathers, that comes and goes. Grief, in this film, feels AI-generated, a construct of how humans feel and act on grief. It's like trying to stroke the back of your lover while wearing foam hands: the results just feel weird and should never be repeated.