Aloys

"Phone Walking", a proposed theoretical technique devised by neurologists, is the ability for two callers to concentrate on background frequencies of a conversation to visualise a shared location within their imagination. The rustling of plastic bags. Leaves blowing in the blustery winds. Underground trains speeding through subway stations. A method utilised to help disintegrate isolation from those particularly vulnerable to unsocial behaviour. For example, a private investigator whom is overburdened by melancholia due to the recent death of his father. The titular protagonist is often cold, reserved and distant from the hustle and bustle of society, plainly embracing ignorance to those who attempt to converse with him. Overridden with depression, he drinks himself unconscious, waking up to a vacuous bus smothered in bleak condensation. His possessions stolen, his robust phone begins to ring to which he is greeted by a soft female voice on the other end. Attempting to postulate whom the female entity is, he investigates several clues that lead him to the path of "Phone Walking", which inevitably changes his outlook on life itself.

Nölle's Swiss-German drama Aloys is a conceptual experimentation in exploring social behavioural traits through pseudo-science, not explicitly seen since Gondry's 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'. Whilst not nearly as romantic as the aforementioned feature, Nölle opts to focus his story on isolation. That intense confinement of loneliness that drives mental well-being into inexplicable actions, including suicide. From the offset, the sparse dialogue and distant camera shots perfectly imitate Aloys unaffectionate persona to the world. Staring at his father's coffin as it rampantly catapults into a crematorium furnace. The frustration exposed on Friedrich's face whenever an outsider asks a question. A relatable, yet problematic personality that creates a barrier of connectivity with the main character. That is until the anonymous female voice enters the fray and commenced the unique "Phone Walking" exercise, which profoundly transforms a melancholic portrait into a plethora of psychological divulgence.

Nölle audaciously alters Aloys to become a sensual experience, once this neurological method springs into action. Enabling viewers to listen out for background ambience, taste the descriptions of specific food types as these two troubled individuals imagine a party, and sensitively touch specific objects depicted through vocabulary alone. The sharp editing cuts between reality and fantasy, often depicted as a barren woodland, allow audiences to share this imaginative process with both Aloys and his female counterpart. Slowly breaking down that isolated barrier once Aloys begins to comprehend this technique. The transparent alteration in Aloys' elation whenever his "virtualised" interpretation of said female joins his imaginary self, is exquisitely portrayed by Friedrich whom acutely balances fragile mentality with vulnerable fear. Whilst Nölle's direction infers a romantic partnership, the surface-level characterisation instead implies a friendship of understanding and reinforcement, which coincidentally suits these personalities more.

Various narrative bumps do seem to be discarded swiftly, including the reasoning behind the unknown female stealing his possessions in the first place and the continuation of his current investigation. However the biggest issue is the heavy-handed metaphorical equivalence for their confinement, particularly when discussing a seal believing it is still in the Atlantic, but actually imprisoned in a zoo. Whilst perfectly acceptable analogies, their inclusion negates the subtle storytelling that Nölle had effortlessly incorporated throughout. Almost a forced last attempt at conveying the mentality of these characters, yet wholly unnecessary.

Regardless, the sheer conceptualisation of virtualisation through descriptive telephone conversations to chip away at unapproachable personalities is worth the watch in itself. To accompany that refreshing technique with solitary characterisation, despite the yearning for deeper exploration, makes Aloys a desirable phone call indeed.

Aloys Aldon is a lonely man, he works as a Private Detective in Switzerland. He was under the thrall of his father who has just died and now he is alone with a cat who seems estranged and has a magnesium deficiency. He has spent his life viewing the World through the view finder of his cam corder

Then something happens that makes him realise just how bland his existence is and that he has all the charm of a disused latrine – but strangely it awakens in him a part of his being that he had felt erstwhile lost. Now this is a strange film and it is meant to be. It co-mingles reality with fantasy in a way that is completely believable.

The music is often portentous or hinting at a dripping emotion like a dam about to burst. The shots are all beautifully framed and the tension creeps up on you without you realising it – only to be broken by moments of release. In short a film that a lot of thought and soul has gone into. It is a slow starter though a very slow start but it is so worth staying with – this is one for those who appreciate what cinema can do and not expect it to be as they have always known.

This movie is not only visually stunning, greatly directed and performed, but is also extremely clever and interesting. I get it, it's a slow movie! But it's also how the story is told, slow paced and detailed, that makes you feel immersed in to the characters lives and fears and frustrations. It's about the human condition and how we cope with small things in life. People who dislike this are probably Nolan fans who cant understand an extremely over-explained blockbuster movie. Worth the watch over all these brainless new titles flooding streaming services every day. 10/10

A lonely private investigator (Georg Friedrich) is contacted by a mysterious woman (Tilde von Overbeck) who pulls him into a mind game known as 'telephone walking'. Fascinated by her voice, Aloys discovers an imaginary universe that allows him to break out of his isolation.

Although Aloys is a private investigator and is expected to be listening and watching at all times, we know something is off from the very first scene: he is intently watching (and filming) his own deceased father. But then again, everyone grieves in their own special way.

This is writer-director Tobias Nölle's first feature, following his segment in the anthology film "Wonderland", and he has really created his own little universe with this one. The set design is appropriately gloomy to reflect Aloys' sullen emotions, with the only bright colors (ironically) being in the crematorium, where we watch his father's casket get unceremoniously dumped into the flames.

We are introduced to the concept of "telephone walking", an idea that was allegedly developed in Japan around 1984 by an unnamed neurologist. Is this concept real? For the sake of the film, that doesn't matter. The methods involved allow lonely folks such as Aloys to envision a passing train, or a wildly flamboyant electric organ disco party. (Yes, the latter happens, and it's the highlight of the otherwise depressing film.)

More interesting than the "telephone walking", perhaps, is how quickly Aloys and his mysterious caller find themselves in a game of cat and mouse, and she clearly has the upper hand. Writer-director Nölle has said, "We live in times where everybody wants to be seen, everybody takes pictures of themselves, everybody creates a second, more brilliant self on the web. I was interested in a man who is invisible, a private eye, who sees everything through his camera, but nobody sees him. Until the day a stranger turns the camera on him."

How life is in Switzerland, I have no idea. But the theme of surveillance is very topical in the United States, where recent headlines about NSA snooping are still fresh concerns in the minds of many. Aloys is interesting in that he represents the hidden surveillance being unmasked. But his work raises another question: what has become of the private eye in a world where everybody is surveilling themselves? If he (or the NSA) wants to know someone's innermost thoughts, they only have to log onto Facebook and scroll through hundreds or thousands of photos uploaded daily.

People like to ask before going in to the theater, "What is the movie like?" This film does not compare easily to anything else, which is high praise for the script. Critic Boyd van Hoeij notes, "Aloys, with his old-fashioned equipment, loner attitude and obsessive edges, recalls Gene Hackman's surveillance expert in Coppola's masterpiece, 'The Conversation'." That's a fair touchpoint, especially considering how often Aloys rewinds and replays his tapes. But the similarities are only superficial. There really is nothing else out there quite like "Aloys".

One fumbles to even describe the picture. It is simultaneously beautiful and depressing, uplifting and lonely, hopeful and barren. Aloys lives in a world that few would want to be in; even he would rather be somewhere else. But at least everything looks good while being swallowed into the void. Even a brief shot of an ambulance seen through a window is gloriously perfect.

"Aloys" premieres July 21, 2016 at the Fantasia Film Festival. While certainly not the fell-good movie of the year, it is definitely one of the best-looking, and may find its way on to a few Top Ten lists.

A very good sci-fi concept, poorly executed. As the film begins, you are reminded of Harry Caul of Coppola's "The Conversation," which was brilliantly played by Gene Hackman.

This film cannot boast of a Hackman or a John Cazale.

You have a dead father being cremated but we are never told how he died.

Secondary characters like Aloys' childhood classmate are never fleshed out. The concept of a drunk Aloy being locked up in a bus does not ring true. It appears he had urinated in his trousers in one shot. In a later shot, there is no such evidence.

All in all it is a film that had so much potential that fails to deliver.