[In "India Song," Marguerite Duras's] most perfectly realized film, the present is in a constant state of deliquescence. As in her previous films, the voices function as an echo chamber whereby the past is imprinted and repeated to infinity….

The fact that it is possible to enjoy [the] characters, to come under the film's spell, and not see it as a parable about the imminent demise of the bourgeoisie is perhaps as much a function of Duras's ambivalence as the audience's, and a triumph of style and an instinctive woman's empathy over strict ideology….

"India Song" is the most feminine film I have ever seen. This is not just in the obvious details of decor, the gauzy, languid atmosphere, the feeling for textures and color and romantic lighting, but in the overwhelming sensual importance granted such things in the way life-and-love is remembered, the crucial importance of setting...