Dark atmospheres, bleak landscapes and interpersonal relationships full of burning secrets are the absolute protagonists in Dunkle Wasser. The Riahi brothers, for their part, have mastered an impeccable and multifaceted screenplay, the highlight of which is the two detectives. At the Diagonale’23.
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.
The Tobacconist is undoubtedly an interesting feature film, but it gets lost in the many paths it decides to take. And not even the presence of Bruno Ganz or a cameo by the great Erni Mangold can do much.
Extremely complex moral issues bring up secrets and grudges, while at the same time giving rise to merciless revenge. Side Effects and Risks stages all this in a never banal or predictable way (thanks also – and above all – to the play by Stefan Vögel from which it is inspired), proving to be a deep and entertaining film at the same time, which, however, precisely because of the particular directorial approach adopted, would seem more appropriate for television broadcasting.
In The White Goblin we see an unexpected Vienna. A Vienna that comes to life when everyone is asleep. A sparkling, opulent Vienna, but also the realm of the underworld, where money seems to play the leading role even – and above all – when the love of art and beauty should have the upper hand. At the Diagonale’22.
Man kann nicht alles haben is an entertaining, but often too predictable comedy of errors. Michael Kreihsl, for his part, just as planned in the ORF series, has made the beautiful city of Graz a further protagonist, spectator of many intrigues, but also of tender love stories.
Although Aufschneider stands out immediately for its television-like writing and directorial approach, everything flows in an overall linear way. Every single event, every single story of the characters are somehow connected. Often, however, also in an excessively predictable manner.
Superworld – the second film by actor and director Karl Markovics – stages a true mystical experience, along with the rediscovery of a love relationship that had been considered, for too many years, irretrievably failed. And yet, despite the issues dealt with, Markovics doesn’t want to express any particular thesis on the subject, leaving the spectator great freedom of interpretation.