‘Winter’ has always been a term with two meanings. The crisp, pure return to nature of a snow-settled world, but also the grey death of everything: the wistful dream and the dour reality. Romance, mundanity.
It’s Winter, a short vignette about Eastern European apartment blocks, is both of those things. Magic and tedium, wonder and ennui. Real winter, scenes that make your blood temperature drop ten degrees, landscapes that you yearn to be in, a life you immediately feel desperate to escape.