Roter Himmel

Director Christian Petzold (PHOENIX, TRANSIT) appears to be in a slightly different mode at first with his latest, AFIRE. Four people gather at a seemingly idyllic summer retreat in the Baltics.

The home is owned by the family of Felix (Langston Uibel). He and his friend Leon (Thomas Schubert) discover that a young woman has sublet a bedroom as well, Nadja (played by Petzhold regular, Paula Beer). A local lifeguard Deved (Enno Trebs) completes the quartet. Leon is there to work on a rewrite of his novel, while Felix is completing a portfolio of photographs.

Petzold has said that he found inspiration in the work of Eric Rohmer and one can certainly see the influence as the characters go through their paces and engage in barbed conversations and behaviors. The original German title translates roughly as 'Red Skies' and refers to the crimson glow from nearby forest fires in the region.

Petzold's script takes a bit to come into focus and is impeded by the character of Leon, a petulant sort who is neither sympathetic nor particular interesting for much of the action. Schubert's performance similarly is off-putting at first and never quite makes him worthy of much investment. Fortunately, Beer is her dependable self and keeps the film moving along, all the while revealing layers of her character. Uibel and Trebs are fine as is Matthias Brandt as Leon's literary editor.

AFIRE has an appropriate denouement (if a bit on the nose) and Petzhold delivers one last mischievous wink to the viewer.

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 actor Thomas Schubert deserves much of the credit for making "Afire" work as well as it does.

He plays a self-absorbed, petty, insecure writer who's so myopically obsessed with the book he's writing that he's oblivious to the world around him. In other hands, it would be a big ask of the audience to spend two hours with such a tiring character, especially since he's in virtually every scene of the movie. But Schubert is able to make this character not only tolerable, but relatable. We're all guilty of missing the bigger picture because of our individual preoccupations.

The ending of "Afire" feels a bit overly dramatic. It's like something that would feel right at home in one of those Southern gothic plays by Tennessee Williams or Eugene O'Neill. But I did enjoy the irony of its conclusion -- once our main character starts paying attention to the trauma around him, it's something he uses to write better books.

Grade: A.

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.

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.