The film, more likely to invite comparisons to the writings of Marcel Proust than the previous Ip Man films, is a gorgeous folly that never entirely emerges from its creator’s head.
Whereas Wong Kar-wai has found himself ensnared by his genre of choice, Thomas Arslan has kept a healthy distance from his own: the western.
The second golden age that the film inhabits is perhaps only apparent in retrospect.
Lee will never be Wong, and that’s okay.
The film is a ravishing evocation of a unconsummated romantic relationship put through an emotional and cultural ringer.