Renoir

Renoir may be a delicate wisp of a film, but it’s flecked with thoughtful questioning about whether childhood’s sorrows leave permanent scars on us as adults.

It’s as interesting for what it doesn’t show as for what it does.

Throughout “Renoir,” a film of morbid whimsy by director Chie Hayakawa, Fuki’s imagination fabricates moments that, in context, are fantastical but, at face value, appear relatively grounded. It’s magical realism that feels more plausible than otherworldly, which makes for a disorienting experience.

Although not as strong as “Plan 75,” Hayakawa draws from her personal experiences to craft a deliberately paced, nostalgic story that warmly touches upon universal themes of grief, childhood imagination, and the bonds of family from this life and beyond.

Renoir is a coming-of-age story that doesn’t care much about lessons learned or milestones reached. Instead, it meanders for its two-hour running time, filled with lyrical moments that are belied by grim undercurrents.

Moving, emotional, and ultimately cathartic, Renoir is a quiet and stirring coming-of-age story that reminds us of our own childhood and the impactful time that can be.

Hayakawa’s narrative isn’t so much experimental as it is unfocused.