here & now

We were asked by our colleagues at the excellent art magazine Kaleidoscope to submit a short review on the current German film scene, which has just been published – so in the spirit of the Berlin film festival, we focused on one of the most talented among a new and very exciting generation of young directors, Christoph Hochhäusler:

About two years ago, I picked up a copy of a German film called Milchwald – literally translating into ‘Milk Forest’ – because I liked the title and it had a pretty cover (unfortunately, it’s been titled In This Very Moment in English, which wouldn’t have done the trick, really). I had never heard of its director Christoph Hochhäusler, nor did I know what to expect. I certainly didn’t know I had rented one of the best films to come out of Germany for decades. It left me floored, unsure of what had just happened. I have watched it several times since.

Christoph Hochhäusler has been loosely attached to what the French termed ‘La Nouvelle Vague Allemande,’ a new generation of young filmmakers such as Angela Schanelec, Christian Petzold or Maren Ade that seem to finally have relieved Germany from its cinematic hibernation since the demise of Rainer Maria Fassbinder and Wim Wenders. Hochhäusler has two feature films to his name, Milchwald and the even more disturbing Falscher Bekenner (Low Profile). He is also co-editor of the very independent film review Revolver.

Milchwald tells the story of a woman who, on a day trip to Poland and over an argument with the two children of her partner, kicks them out of the car and – drives off. The moment of regret comes too late, the children have disappeared by the time she returns.
Falscher Bekenner is centered around a teenage boy who is lost in a downward spiral of confusion and apathy. In an attempt to escape his reality, he starts to claim guilt for crimes he didn’t commit.

Both films are told with a detached clarity that draws out a simple and devastating story and pursues it relentlessly to its inevitable end. Hochhäusler does not judge or justify, he does not explain or excuse. He draws back and observes as tragedy unfolds, and he creates stunning images along the way. His films are quiet, oppressive and utterly beautiful.

Tarkovsky comes to mind for the slow pacing and the sheer aesthetics of Hochhäusler’s work; Fassbinder for his merciless dissection of German society, for looking at the flaws and the aches; Lars von Trier for his persistence in seducing us to look at what we didn’t really want to know in the first place. And yes, these are big names to throw around for a largely unknown filmmaker with only two feature films to his name.

It is a dark picture Hochhäusler paints of Germany – the skies are a monotonous grey, the settings are bleak, the streets are empty. The confusion and solitude underneath are hushed over by the banal clutter of modern life, families have disintegrated to hollow shells that offer material but no emotional security. Hochhäusler’s figures are stifled by their inability to communicate and to reach out, as if caught terrified in the headlights of their own emotions. If anything, Hochhäusler’s films portray an emptiness that is hopelessly overwhelming; and they are all the more unsettling for their accuracy: it’s a picture that feels uneasily familiar.