Grand Tour

It is a film of many enchantments.

Gomes doesn’t undercut the romance... instead, he leans into its petulance, allowing the formal ambiguity of the nonnarrative sections to suggest the possibility of another interpretation entirely.

If you can roll with atmospherics that are their own reason for being, “Grand Tour” has plenty, and they’re all beautifully realized.

Beauty is pleasurable, but the film’s use of evocative visuals to focus on storytelling more broadly is what makes it a quiet knockout.

Gomes picks apart an imagined past by experiencing its present, at the same time sharply unpacking the screwball comedy by separating the running man and the pursuing woman.

...weirdly compelling...

The film's wry, playful deconstruction of the Orientalist gaze occupies that delightful space between romanticism and authenticity.

Grand Tour is a slow burn that pays off beautifully as it lulls us into its particular rhythm and gorgeously textured images.

While I didn’t wholly grok Grand Tour, there is no question that it’s exactly the kind of singular artistic leap you have to be grateful somebody, anybody is still taking these days.

Miguel Gomes’ Grand Tour is a film that is easy to lavish with kind descriptive words. Beguiling, mesmerising, playful, bizarre, beautiful—all slip off the tongue effortlessly when describing it.