Review of The Unbearable Lightness of Being (1988) by Liz H — 06 Sep 2008

I ran for the train, ran to the cinema, anxiously checking the time queued to get a ticket and finally sat down in the front row of a dark film theatre as the film had already started. For the next three hours I had tears running down my cheeks and I don't remember the last time I'd been so moved by a film.

First time I saw the Unbearable Lightness of Being I was probably about 18-19 and it was on TV. I remember liking the film, but thought it inferior to Kundera's fantastic novel. This viewing experience was very different. The big screen obviously made a huge difference, but I'd also grown so much as a person, I knew better.

The film was beautiful. It was probably a combination of memories and the stunning cinematography, a great story which worked on so many different levels and the young, innocent face of Binoche that made it extraordinary.

When the film had ended and walked out I felt heavy inside. The lightness of the world around me felt unbearable, but I was not strong enough to stop and speak to the child beggar under the railway bridge or to the homeless man selling the Big Issue. I observed the faces of other Londoners laughing, smiling and I felt empty, yet full of emotion.