Verhoeven uses blood, bodies, smoke, mud, and fire to fill the frame, dirtying it up as if the obscenities shown weren't mucky enough on their own. The ubiquitous filth is truly commendable, creating a fresco straight from hell. My favorite English-language Verhoeven.
A Sentimental Journey, indeed, but one that's not entirely built on its maudlin affinities. The cliches (or are they only now after years of similar gimmicks in cinema?) end up as utilitarian devices to arrive at the central themes, which are 1) love through companionship and 2) overcoming grief. It's a rather standard film but a pick-me-up nevertheless. Instead of making me cry, it made me smile multiple times.
This one screencap says everything you want to know about this film.
