A Big Bold Beautiful Journey – Where Reality and Memory Intertwine

Source: IMDb Media Gallery (A Big Bold Beautiful Journey), Focus Features press photos. Images are used for critical and educational purposes only.

Few films manage to move me in a way that doesn’t just tell a story, but invites you on an inner journey as well. A Big Bold Beautiful Journey, directed by Kogonada, is exactly that kind of film.

A film that is at once beautiful, surreal, and deeply human.

The story appears to begin with a simple encounter: two strangers — Sarah (Margot Robbie) and David (Colin Farrell) — set off on a journey to attend a wedding. But the strange GPS in their car suddenly takes an unexpected turn one day, and with that, a journey begins that leads not across a map, but through the hidden landscapes of memory and the past.

As the film unfolds, it gradually becomes clear that this ‘journey’ is not geographical, but emotional — the characters are traveling back toward their pasts, their choices, and their lost selves. The magical doors that reopen key moments of their lives are not merely acts of time travel; they become symbols of forgiveness, reinterpretation, and self-discovery.

The philosophy of the director, the visuals, and the atmosphere

The film is directed by Kogonada, who previously became known through After Yang and Columbus — two films that speak quietly and sensitively about human connection and the passage of time. Here, he preserves that same lyrical sensitivity, while engaging more boldly with elements of the fantastical.

According to Kogonada, this film is about the dialogue between past and present:

“We cannot escape our past — but we can learn to see it in a different light.”

The director gives visual form to this philosophy as well: warm shades of terracotta, turquoise, and gold, natural light, rattan lamps, and floral wallpapers all create the feeling of standing on the threshold between dream and memory. The visual world also carries traces of anime and magical realism — and Kogonada has shared that this is the first time he allowed the lyricism of Japanese cinema to fully emerge in his work.

The music is by Joe Hisaishi , best known from the magical world of Studio Ghibli films. Here, he brings that same nostalgic, floating emotional atmosphere — as if the sounds themselves were memories. I absolutely loved it.

The film’s message and philosophical layers

Perhaps the film suggests that life is not about forgetting our past, but about learning how to live alongside it. The strange doors that lead the characters back to earlier decisions become metaphors for the idea that we can always choose differently — not in the external world, but within ourselves. The film offers no conventional resolutions. There is no grand, dramatic catharsis; instead, it gently and gradually guides us toward the realization that the greatest journey is not outward, but inward.

What do the actors say?

For Margot Robbie, this film was “one of the most magical filming experiences” of her career. After Barbie, she consciously chose a project that is more intimate and deeply human — a story which, as she puts it, “is about finding silence within ourselves before we go looking for it in anyone else.”

Colin Farrell spoke about the film in the following way:

"It’s a love story — but not about two people falling in love with each other. Rather, it’s about learning how to love at all."

He believes that one of the film’s most important layers lies in its quiet realization: that our lives are often not bad — they simply don’t work until we understand why we feel lost within them.

Why was it such a special experience?

This much is certain: it’s not a film for everyone. It’s slow, contemplative, and layered — and that is precisely where its magic lies. The visuals, the atmosphere, and the story work together, speaking both to the senses and to the soul.

If we allow ourselves to be carried by it, we don’t just follow the characters’ journey — we begin to recognize our own. It’s a story about how life is full of doors. And it’s up to us which ones we dare to open.

A mirror for the viewer — if you were to step through the door

For me, this wasn’t just a film.It felt more like an invitation. A gentle reminder that every moment in our lives is a possible “door” — some remain closed, some we return to again and again, and others are the ones we are only now finding the courage to open.

If you were to close your eyes for a moment…

How many doors would you see before you?

And if you opened them, where would they lead?

To a moment from your childhood? An unspoken farewell? A decision you never made?

Imagine stepping through one of those doors.

What would you see inside? Who would be waiting for you?

And if you returned, what would change within you?

A playful exercise inspired by the film

Choose three doors from your life. Give them names.

One might be The Unspoken Word. Another, The City I Never Went To. And a third, The Moment I First Believed in Myself.

Now imagine stepping through them — and notice what they bring back into the present.

Because, as Kogonada’s film gently suggests:

“…what matters is not what we leave behind, but how much courage we have to reopen the doors that are, in fact, ourselves.”

And perhaps it’s no coincidence that while writing about this film, I was reminded of one of Mária Vanyovszki’s beautiful practices. She suggests taking out a childhood photograph — from before our school years — and sitting with it in a quiet, 15-minute meditation. Look deeply into your own eyes in the photo. Ask a question, make a request, set an intention — something that’s present for you right now. Then simply observe what happens.

You may feel emotional, cry, laugh, or see an entirely different expression reflected back at you — all of it is welcome. As Mária says, don’t try to understand it; just allow it to unfold.

You may feel emotional, cry, laugh, or see an entirely different expression reflected back at you — all of it is welcome. As Mária says, don’t try to understand it; just allow it to unfold.

For some reason, these two practices — stepping through doors and returning to the gaze of our younger selves — came together for me in this moment. Both speak to the same truth: that we must dare to meet ourselves — our past, our fears, our joys — because without that meeting, there is no real journey.

I deeply respect and appreciate Mária’s work, and if this thought resonates with you, I invite you to try it yourself. It’s surprising how much you may discover… about yourself. 🌙