The fateful falling rush on the soundtrack at several points in the “Voice of Fall”, such as the increasing momentum to overweight, is assumed that this repeated auditory idea that gives the wonderful Massa Shalinsky in a student of a mysterious English student otherwise. It has nothing to do with the original German designation of the film, which translates less nonsense as “staring at the sun”, and if it seems that this was a hard work for acceptance, then this is because he trades in feelings and experiences at one time every day and is not applicable.
The lives of four generations of girls (if they did not die) have been dried through different ages on the same farm banned in northern Germany, Schlensky built a inhabited story one day of the twentieth century, which remains there for the present time, but there remains a lot of destructive proportions. Formally Rigorous But Not austere, Shot Throw with Dark Humor and Quotering Sensual Intensity, “Sound of Falling” Marks a Substantial Step Up in Ambition and Execution from Schilinski’s Proming but comparanetly Modest 2017 Debut “Dark Blue Girl,” and with UNExpeted But Fully earned Slot in the Main Complete at Cannes, VAULTS The 41-Year-LED Berliner IMMEDIONYLY To the Forefront of Contemporary German Cinema.
Commercially, Maher’s treatment will be required by distinguishing arthouse distributors to attract the masses into a complex narrative work, and the most possible way is rewarding, difficult to pack or summarize. The Schilinski scenario and co -author Louise Peter Boutros include four narrative threads, each of which is already full of its own sples, ambiguity and floating shifts in the perspective; Watch together in a largely impressive arrangement, they start thinking and resemble each other in complex ways. Collectively, they constitute a water evokes for the young femininity in which the past does little to prepare every consecutive generation for the first bruises with desire, mistreatment and deaths-and still, in a world still governed by violent patriarch, which does not kill you makes you more cautious.
It begins with a shrapnel of the harshest four, a snapshot of a routine routine with the stories that preceded it directly and its failure to sequence. Erika (Lea Drinda) teenager was introduced as he wanders in the dark farm corridor on one leg, with the support of crutches, while her father is brilliantly connected abroad until it comes and tends to pigs.
But she is just playing to play: her left leg is linked under her dress, and her crutches do not belong, but her blackmailed uncle in bed Fritz (Martin Rohar). When the trick falls and goes to her father, he brutally hit her with her face; Small wonder entertaining special imaginations of disability. Her reaction to the strike is a small smile, an incentive, directly directed to the DP Fabian Gamper camera that you are mysteriously hovering – not the first time that a female Schilinski heroes given the fourth wall silent, and the audience’s call in an environment that gives them a little care or calm.
Erika lives in the 1940s under the shadow of the Second World War, and she is a nine -year -old descendant (Hanna Hikt, and she is wonderful in her first appearance on the big screen), and she is the youngest daughter of the agricultural family around which the screen revolves around the beginning of the century. A pain is also given to harm and whims, and the attributes of desperate deficiency in the family that are often characterized by physical and psychological pain. Through her eyes, we learn the brutal truth of how the young Fritz (Philip Shanak), which was one day, and the investigation behind the sad behavior of the old household maids before the employers were, “to be safe for men.” Although she only understands some of what she is witnessing through the main holes or shy adult signal, a painful patent over the summer, which expects to die by itself.
In the other direction, the family tree extends to the sister of Erika (Claudia Jesler Pacing), which was presented in the early eighties of the last century as a mother of a teenager who does not calm down Angelica (Lina Orzundoski), which is increasingly exploited by Gawmanning. The latter is the only male character that contributes to the running audio comment that alternates otherwise among female managers, and sometimes they look at their youth with some distance, and a more fully knowledgeable narrator. Nowadays, the farm is a summer house for two medium-class couples in Berlin and their daughters Link (Lenne Gizler) and Nelly (Zoe Bayer)-have nothing to do with the former population in time, it seems that the history of the house for tragedy and female sinners parasitizes also.
Schilinski and Gamper are visually released, they shot in an appropriate academic ratio, to unify the film’s ages with the popular books that excite faded family images in some shots and oxidation of the antique mirror in others-all in a painting of black full and brown tied to light tea only by breaths of stones. These stalled images provide a suitable aesthetic counterpart for the story of the stories in which each scene is presented as a personal memory, with some unclear details and others. The camera is watchful, but sometimes in a reluctant position, as if she was trying to remember the design of a partial appearance.
Also, also, “Sound of Falling” sews the timelines with fiery bursts of static and silence-and one repeated needle in “Stranger”, which is a story of loving and caution by the singer and contemporary singer Anna von Hauswolf, by expressing the emotional emotional conflict. (“There is something that moves against me,” sings. ”It is not in line with the world I know.”) No more accurate point has been transferred in the letter, performance, or poetic performance or neglecting it in a movie that appears to be a warning against blackout, progress or removal of memory-not only for societies or science with more common stories than he might think, but they tend to tell two words. If these walls are able to speak, this amazing film is concluded, they are likely to remain silent.