by Julian Wood
Worth: $18.00
FilmInk rates movies out of $20 — the score indicates the amount we believe a ticket to the movie to be worth
Cast:
Hanna Heck, Lena Urzendowsky, Sasanne Wuest, Luise Heyer, Lea Drinda, Laeni Geiseler
Intro:
For lovers of arthouse cinema this is a must-see.
One of the fascinations about cinema is how it can seem to sum up, or represent, a whole nation or culture, so when we look at a film from a particular country, we think that we are getting some essence of their world view in a way. It is very tempting to see this long, complicated art movie in this light. In one way, it seems SO German. There is an explicit dimension to this too, as the film takes in different periods, so as to examine the story of Germany itself, with its World War elements and the subsequent split between East and West that seems to have left a scar on the national psyche.
The first part of the film centres on a big rural estate in the early 20th Century. It is teeming with life and we get to follow not only the stories of the main family but also the interactions with the various servants and labourers who are part of the milieux.
The director Mascha Schilinski, who co-wrote, is clearly fascinated by the inner life of children. She often films from a child’s height and in various other ways illustrate how children see the close-up detail rather than the bigger picture as they try to puzzle out the ways of adults.
This is certainly true for Alma (Hanna Heck), one of the main characters of the early section of the film. Her piercing puzzled gaze unsettles the adults around her as they try to shield her from the dark realities of life.
The film has a somewhat relentless focus on death and sex, these two great imponderables that seem to frame so much of life’s meaning. In scene after scene, we see everyday behaviour made strange and hypnotic by seeing it through the uncomprehending eyes of the child characters. There is also an ever-present sense of violence, both domestic and military, which informs the sombre feel of the film. The sepia and black palette is oppressively dark. However, very occasionally it opens to contrasting summer scenes of bathing by a river or the whole family having an outdoor picnic.
As implied. a lot of the scenes are disturbing, with touches of cruelty and a sense of underlying sadism that is strongly reminiscent of films like Michael Haneke’s The White Ribbon. Again, it might be lazy thinking to shorthand this as typically Austrian or German, but somehow it is hard to imagine this kind of treatment coming from anywhere else.
The film is long but mesmerising. It is beautifully shot throughout thanks partly to a great contribution from Schilinski’s cinematographer Fabian Gamper. This is a team to be aware of and this is confident and well-crafted filmmaking. If there is a flaw, it is that Schilinski tries to put in too much. She doesn’t know when less is more. There are just too many scenes of angst and bodily mutilation and self-harm and creepy sexual predation, so that we become alienated like the characters, and our sympathies are fatigued.
Sound of Falling has garnered a lot of word of mouth and critical praise after premiering at Cannes last year. For lovers of arthouse cinema this is a must-see.
