Le ciel rouge

It's fair to say, there's no inferno or great blaze, and there's a good chance half way through, your eyes might start to glaze, the meandering's quite slow, although there is a subtle glow, but it struggles to compete with perpetual malaise. The perspective needs your mind to persevere, for reflections to emerge and re-adhere, consider landscapes past and present, how they change, evolve and ferment, locking horns with dread, anxiety and fears. The performances are fine, there is intent, although poor Leon is in permanent descent, lacks a flicker and a spark, you wouldn't say he is a lark, one of those people you might call, quite malcontent.

"Leon" (Thomas Schubert) and his friend "Felix" (Langston Uibel) head to a remote rural cottage near the Baltic coast so the former man can put the finishing touches to his novel before a visit from his publisher (Matthias Brandt). They arrive, though, and discover that "Nadja" (Paula Beer) is already staying - and this upsets the apple cart a bit. "Leon" quickly becomes obsessed - and that only gets worse when her nocturnal activities with life guard "Devid" (Enno Trebs) and some wafer thin walls force him to sleep in the garden amongst the mosquitoes. What now ensues is quite an intricately constructed observational presentation that looks at the evolving dynamic between the four - and it doesn't pan out as you might expect, especially once it becomes clear that his latest literary work is nobody's idea of a magnum opus. The characterisations here have a fluidity to them that makes for quite an interesting watch. None of them could ever be described as beautiful - in any classical sense - so the story is much more about their traits, flaws and foibles than about their looks. That works up to a point, but there was too much missing from the puzzle for me to really find myself engaged with any of them. The last twenty minutes - set amidst some lethal forest fires - was rushed and seemed to me indicative that "Leon" wasn't the only one who'd suffered from a writer's block! The photography is effectively intimate at times but at other times we see just too many shots walking to and from the beach (and the constant buzzing of the mozzies got on my nerves a bit, too, after a while!). I did quite enjoy this, but somehow it just lacked substance before a conclusion that just seemed to be unnecessarily ghastly. Give it a go, though...

This is an absolute gem of a film. I hadn't done my homework - just ticked it a as good option to see in the NZ International Film Festival, but I was hooked form the opening scenes. It's a subtle, beautifully played film, based around a young writer (Leon) who is struggling to put the finishing touches to a novel, while staying at what is turning out to be the holiday home from hell. Leon is his own worst enemy, always makes the wrong choice, and then beats himself up about it. There is a sinister backdrop to the story, and an unsettling tonal shift toward the end - but that's life, right? Despite the dark undercurrent that gradually emerges, the film is also very funny, and therefore works on more than one level - as a study of human behaviour but also as pure entertainment. I loved this film, and I highly recommend it.

The plot is very disorienting. There is a huge deadly forest fire and yet mere minutes away these people are going about their recreational and artistic pursuits without issue. The fire keeps pendulating between being the driving force of the plot and being an ignored inconvenience.

The characters are all mildly uncanny. If there is an artistic message in their personae then it must have been too esoteric for me to pick up while watching.

The storyline felt like it may have been a symbol for the ideation of the film. Keep writing literary nonsense while being an unlikeable detached egotist until you finally chance upon something passable... Unfortunately, the protagonist is so egotistical that when he tries self reflection he actually somehow becomes more egotistical! So I have to confess bewilderment at what the message is supposed to be.

Leon and Felix, two young men with work to do, head to a family cottage to complete their tasks. But a beautiful interloper upsets their plans.

It's a familiar set up, given a memorable outing in Lynn Shelton's 'Your Sister's Sister.' The remote setting, the unexpected third wheel, sexual tension, secrets and lies - all the familiar elements are here. There is lots to admire about Afire, most notably the performances from Paul Beer as Nadja, Langston Uibel as Felix, Enno Trebs as Devid and Matthias Brandt as Helmut, a character who arrives late but has a very interesting narrative arc. Ultimately, however, the film fails to deliver a satisfying emotional climax. The tension between Leon and Nadja seems forced, resulting from some unpolished plot manoeuvres. Why does Nadja not reveal her literary background? How can she just 'turn up' in the bedroom with Leon? The main misfire, however, is the casting of Thomas Schubert as Leon. He just never convinces as tortured writer, a character type exemplified by Paul Giamatti in Sideways. It is a puzzling error, given that the other characters are so well cast.

The sound design also slightly annoys by making the buzzing of insects prominent. It is presumably done to put us 'inside' of Leon's discomfort, but it is merely irritating.

The ending felt like it was missing a layer. The turnaround in Leon's fortunes is a nice touch, but I expected to hear that his story was pure fiction inspired by the events, and that the tragedy he relays in his prose had not, in fact, taken place. But the script did not take that step, and that feels like a missed opportunity. Leon is more interested in rekindling a romance than grieving for a friend, and that made me dislike him.

There are many good elements here. Nadja is intriguing and likable, and the romance that blossoms between two characters was unexpected and surprising. The approaching fire is a nice literal and figurative touch. Afire is worth checking out, but it feels like is could have been so much more than it is.