Ryusuke Hamaguchi’s Wheel of Fortune and Fantasy is a lovely and delicate little film whose power becomes more and more apparent as it moves along and its triptych of stories accumulate. It’s a poignant and bittersweet look at individuals’ fumbling attempts to reach out for connection and the ways those attempts can be painful, liberating, joyous, or destructive. Each of the three stories are anchored by long conversations filled with confessions, vulnerability, and revelations. It’s a testament to Hamaguchi’s sense of staging and framing – and each of the incredible performers – that these long conversations never feel boring or static, there’s always a sense of movement and a trajectory of emotional connection within each sequence. As the characters lay their souls bare in an effort to find love or connection, the camera is willing to linger – on faces, on empty spaces – to let moments breathe. There’s a quiet poignancy to each of the stories here, characters may not always find connection in the way they liked or hoped, and sometimes their attempts go awry, but the attempt is made. And for Hamaguchi and the characters in the film, it’s the attempt itself that matters.