What little dialogue there is in Tsai Ming-Liang’s DAYS is intentionally unsubtitled. The deftly precise soundtrack draws on the ambient sounds of spaces, such as the rain against a window or the cacophony of passersby on a bustling street. Within these spaces are two men, separated by wealth, age, and health, but joined by a deafening isolation. When the two come into contact, the warmth of their intimacy and the charge of their touch is a brief respite from the solitude they share.