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This deluge of cynicism, broadened to encompass everyone in Loveless, diluted whatever truth Leviathan would have had. It works in this case because a primordial story’s lent to the attitude, and the nefarious actions of its solipsistic characters don’t push us away but bring us closer to them. Leviathan allowed itself warm tones to contrast the cold. The tungsten light in Loveless is oppressive and scarce. This film is only cold, and coldly mad. When characters peer out their windows, and into their dreams, the reality of their eye line is winter, dilapidated city, and dead trees. Where tempers sweltered hot red in the foreheads of Leviathan, they freeze over, blue, in the lips of Loveless.