Mermaids don't cry (2022) by Franziska Pflaum - Review

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by Franziska Pflaum

grade: 6.5

With Mermaids don’t cry, director Franziska Pflaum has realised a kind of delicate and symbolic contemporary fairytale, in which a magnetic protagonist represents a kind of postmodern heroine on her (often difficult) path towards a new self-awareness. At the Diagonale’23.

An “expensive” dream

Becoming a mermaid. Or, at least, looking like one. Who, as a child, has never had such a dream? For the young cashier Annika (played by Stefanie Reinsperger), however, such a dream never seems to have died. What will this lead her to? In her debut feature film, Mermaids don’t cry, presented as part of the programme of the Diagonale’23, director Franziska Pflaum has staged all this to create a kind of delicate and symbolic contemporary fairytale, in which a magnetic protagonist represents a kind of postmodern heroine on her (often difficult) path to a new self-awareness.

Annika, therefore, is going through a rather delicate period: her father (a great Karl Fischer) pretends to be disabled in order to get a pension and, in the meantime, has moved into her flat. Her best friend Karo (Julia Franz Richter), on the other hand, continues to date several men and constantly asks her to take care of her children. To make matters worse, Annika is in danger of losing her job due to job cuts. Only the dream of being able to buy a mermaid costume would seem to give her a reason to get through her day. The problem, however, is that such a costume is rather expensive and, as a result, her dream seems rather difficult to come true.

Pastel colours, an almost fairytale atmosphere, the drama of the protagonist next to paradoxical situations that give everything a pleasantly light touch. Mermaids don’t cry is actually a much more realistic feature film than it may initially seem. Dream and reality meet again and again, now in the protagonist’s dreams, now in evenings spent gazing at the stars from the roof of a building. An overall clean direction gives us occasional forays into the oneiric and the surreal and, while being at times naïve in these choices, succeeds in fully rendering the complex inner world of the young protagonist on screen.

Annika is not afraid to fight in order to realise her dreams. And when even her loved ones do not hesitate to betray her trust she is ready to go against everything and everyone. No one really seems to understand her feelings and needs. And in Mermaids don’t cry, precisely, we see how the woman slowly realises that she is the only one who can change her destiny.

Franziska Pflaum, for her part, has succeeded in creating the right mix of drama and delicate humour, without being afraid to go over the top. And even if the ending is a little too rushed and rather contrived, her Mermaids don’t cry turned out to be a pleasant foray into the world of a young woman with whom we can all, in one way or another, easily identify. A delicate hymn to life as pleasant as a fresh spring breeze.