Through a sequence of vignettes director Davies presents an affecting portrait of Bud Davies, an eleven year old in a working-class family in 1950s Liverpool.

The thing that struck me about this movie is that it illustrates the unique capabilities of cinema. For example there is a sequence where an overhead scene of a movie audience dissolves into an overhead shot of people in church pews and that dissolves into an overhead shot of of schoolboys at their desks. Beside being an inspired piece of film making, in the space of a minute or so this sequence touches on three of the consequential things in Bud's life: movies, religion, and school. For Bud movies are a passion, religion a burden of guilt, and school something to be endured.

This is such an intimate portrait that I had to believe that it was somewhat autobiographical. In fact the director's commentary on the Criterion Collection edition reveals that it is straight autobiography, down to the names of many of the characters. The scenes from Davies' childhood depicted in this movie must have been burned into his mind. There are many memorable scenes. One scene that sticks with me has Bud sitting in a room with a nun while he tries to stop a nose bleed. The nun is writing at her desk in front of a window with a thunderstorm going on outside. The camera starts out with the room in view, then closes in on the shadowy nun and and winds up looking at the empty room through the window from the outside.

Bud's family is essential for his happiness. He is close to his endearing mother--there is one great scene that has Bud sitting with his mother's arms around him with her singing a song her father used to sing. The relationship between Bud and his older two brothers and sister is an affectionate one. I suspect that the family dynamics presented must be idealized as viewed through the lens of memory since five family members living together so harmoniously in a small flat surely leaves out some frictions.

The movie is suffused with a sense of nostalgic melancholy. Remorse in the passage of time is a major theme. This is in evidence even in the beginning credits that has a vase of fresh roses gradually dropping petals while a Boccherini string quartet plays. This theme is carried into the first scene that has the camera focusing on the rainy street in front of Bud's house with Nat King Cole's recording of "Stardust" playing ("Love is now the stardust of yesterday, The music of the years gone by"). There is a lengthy scene that has one of Bud's teachers lecturing on erosion. On fist thought this seems to be simply an oddity, but later we understand that erosion is being used as a metaphor for what happens to us as we age. Some will feel that Davies stays on some scenes too long, like the scene with light playing on a carpet. I can distinctly remember a pattern on my grandmother's carpet and looking at it while the light changed and the adults talked (pre iPad days!) This may not rank up there with Proust's madeleine, but I understand what Davies is getting at with this scene.

Davies is very open about his being gay, but I found that there were only the most subtle hints of this in the movie. But I suppose that at the age of eleven Bud would only be getting hints about that himself. Early on Bud looks intently out his back window at some shirtless bricklayers and is obviously drawn to them. When one of the workers winks at him he is seen to fall into a pained sadness and withdraws into the room where the camera has followed him, staying on his face where his expression changes to a quizzical, then, defiant stare. This is another example of the common technique that Davies uses of staying with a shot longer than you would normally expect. I found these extended reaction shots to be effective at revealing character. A couple of times Bud is called a fruit by some of his classmates, but that is frequently a generic jibe young people hurl at each other. However, I was looking throughout for some explanation for Bud's aloneness. He was decent looking with an agreeable personality, but an early recognition of his homosexuality would explain a lot of his behavior. There are scenes where Bud in church talks about the weight of his sins, but it is never specifically mentioned what sins he feels he has committed. And it is curious that there are no girls of Bud's age in the movie.

One of the most distinctive features of this movie is its use of dozens of brief clips of music and dialog from old movies. The music ranges from Doris Day singing "Tammy," to Mahler's tenth symphony. But there are musical performances independent of other films like Kathleen Ferrier's beautiful version of "Blow the Wind Southerly" that accompanies one of Bud's daydreams. Isobel Buchanan's singing of Robert Burns' "Ae fond kiss" intensifies several scenes. And the final scene with Arthur Sullivan's poem "The Long Day Closes," performed by the Pro Cantione Antiqua chorus, is a knockout. Playing a clip from Miss Havisham's cake scene from "Great Expectations" after Bud has been ignored by his friends is haunting.

The performances are all first rate. Marjorie Yates as Bud's mother is a standout. She can say of lot with facial expressions. As Bud, Leigh McCormack (in his one and only movie role) is well cast. The cinematography uses a warm color palette to express Davies' nostalgic vision.

This movie shows Davies as having the talents of a major director. Until seeing this I had not heard of him, but I now look forward to seeing some of his other work.

This is one of the most beautiful movie I ever seen. This is a masterpiece of intelligence and cinematography. Splendid camera work and a brillant integration of music and bit of spoken words. It also captures the essence of childhood. It's simply pure poetry. Remember that films are made to be seen: in early days, it was moving pictures. Here we have that essence: we see pictures. No need to listen, no need of dialogues : just pictures, as beautiful as a painting, as photography. I'm very happy that the other viewers loves this film. But I'm a little bit sad to see that it just got 6 or something out of 10 votes. See it again and again. Taste it a lot of times.

By some definition, this is a great film. It is as "still" as any movie I've ever seen (rivaled, perhaps, only by BARRY LYNDON),meditative, thoughtful. The soundtrack of pop tunes is part of the content of the film: remembered music, remembered frights, remembered ease. Director Terence Davies, in recalling his youth in Britain in the 1950s, has filmed a metaphor for growing up that resembles TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD, plus color, minus the melodrama. This film will definitely not be to everyone's taste, but for those who are of the right age and sensibility, it may be a transforming experience.