- Isn't it amazing anyway ?!
- Which one?
- Everything! Everything is fantastic.

From the above dialogue, which comes to an end in About the Infinite, one might be tempted to think that the fourth part of Andersson's whitewashed "trilogy" has a more upbeat tone, but that would be taken in. But still, here is something easily adorable , an intuitive sense of freedom that can come from the director having now completely thrown off the clear narrative compulsive jacket.
He leans back and looks at the fragility of the human animal.

If the Infinite is a collection of tableaux that states that it is a pity for man. It is largely about envy, selfishness, lack of empathy, religion and - which is new to the context - violence in close relationships and honor killings.
Yes, contemporary is actually penetrating into the Roman universe.

Partly in the form of an increased diversity among the statists, which is thus not just white-hued white people, and partly in a dream scene - a walking of the streets where a middle-aged man is dragging a heavy cross through town, whipped and mocked by an angry crowd. Surely it could be a comment on the mob violence in social media?

Or it's just an illustration of that priest's recurring nightmare. He who later sits with the psychiatrist and complains that he has lost faith.
- Could it be that there is no God? suggests the doctor.
- Then what to believe? the priest whispers.
- You must be satisfied that you are alive.

God's silence ... Hm, where have we heard it before ...? Does the old film artist begin to approach Ingmar Bergman's religious pondering in the autumn? Well, maybe not anyway. Because even though death is more present here than in previous films, Roy Andersson has often commented on religion's, or at least the church's, shortcomings in soul care. Best portrayed in Sånger from the second floor: that priest who cannot take in the anguish of a parishioner but instead speaks of his own regret about having done a poor real estate deal (a favorite scene!). In About the Infinite, we see a servant of God who literally turns his back when a doomed man seeks mercy before he is to be arched.

But otherwise, most things are the same in the Roman universe: That dusty, scuffed one that gives an undefined sense of being in a decrepit Eastern Europe, where the cars are small and scary, where people are shamed and everything goes in DDR yellow.
And so those fantastic environments, the extremely detailed decor buildings, the suggestive panorama of a torn-up cologne. Everything - or at least most - built up in the studio. It is movie trolling for the big screen.

Roy Andersson is in a league of his own in the Swedish film industry: he creates all works of art that communicate with the art, literature and film world. Movable paintings with depth in image, text and thought. Existentialism served with wonderful arch-laconic humor.

For some reason , Roy Andersson has this time joined in with narrative voices. A young woman talking with screaming voice and carefully considered phrases. It works bit by bit, gives the work a unifying sago, but interferes just as often. "I saw a man having problems with the car," she says, when we see a man having problems with the car ...
Unnecessarily.
There is certainly a smart thought to it, but in that case it escapes this critic's grasping ability.

But of course there is only a small smuggler in the joy cup. Roy Andersson will probably never reach exactly the same heights he did in Sånger from the second floor, but it was also the first time that his special aesthetics were released in a whole feature film, but all the three subsequent titles are nevertheless brilliant creations from a Swedish filmmakers who do not resemble anyone else.