Portrait of a Lady on Fire
I don't know if it's age or what, but this film and THE IRISHMAN don't just make me cry, they make me sob uncontrollably for several minutes after they've ended. Both are slow-burns (no joke intended) that are so raw and earnest that they're sometimes almost comical, but they ultimately strike a very tender nerve and I have to collapse. Perhaps it's because they're both about regrets and/or melancholy, and therefore about death and time – looking ahead or back on your life and wondering if you're leading or have lead the best life. And they're both about love, really. 823