The second in a trilogy of films exploring the insidious after-effects of domestic violence, Florian Eichinger's slow burning tale of two brothers reconnecting draws a brooding power from its North Sea location.
On the eve of his mother's release from prison, Volker (Daniel Michel) returns to his childhood home on the island of Norderney at the request of his musician brother, Marten (Martin Schleiß). The two men share a cordial detachment, carefully avoiding the issue of their father and the events that led to their mother's imprisonment. The brothers revisit their old haunts and reconnect with old friends but old wounds still ache.
Eichinger shows little interest in wallowing in traditional domestic violence tropes. He presents the boys' father as an oppressive figure but the flashes are brief. He opts instead to draw out the extent to which their upbringing has embedded itself deeply in their relationship patterns, both with each other and with those around them. Guilt, empowerment and self-preservation have all taken on twisted, unhealthy guises and Marten's attempts to reconstruct their shattered lives only brings to light how irrevocably damaged the two men really are.
Nordstrand is a moody piece of work. The dowdy cinematography can be off-putting but it is an effective palette for the under the surface drama. The performances from both Michel and Schleiß slip seamlessly into the film's grey-blue tone. They each walk their own fine lines between giving too much too soon and underplaying their emotional contusions. The resultant undertow pulls you in, but slowly.
Before long, the enormity of the young men's situation hits with a thud reminiscent of Michael Haneke's disturbing Benny's Video, except here the violent outcomes have clear antecedents. Nordstrand is compelling in how it deals with the aftermath and insightful in how tightly that aftermath is woven into its thematic concerns. Eichinger perceptively unpicks the damage but he struggles to find a way to begin the healing process. Once both men are exposed, the film loses its way and its power peters out as it repeatedly steps over moments that could have served as more satisfying conclusions.
Nordstrand is simple, character driven film making that comes at its painful subject matter from a unique angle, and it delves surprisingly deep. It won't stun with its craft but the impact lingers nonetheless.
★★★
Trailer:
On the eve of his mother's release from prison, Volker (Daniel Michel) returns to his childhood home on the island of Norderney at the request of his musician brother, Marten (Martin Schleiß). The two men share a cordial detachment, carefully avoiding the issue of their father and the events that led to their mother's imprisonment. The brothers revisit their old haunts and reconnect with old friends but old wounds still ache.
Eichinger shows little interest in wallowing in traditional domestic violence tropes. He presents the boys' father as an oppressive figure but the flashes are brief. He opts instead to draw out the extent to which their upbringing has embedded itself deeply in their relationship patterns, both with each other and with those around them. Guilt, empowerment and self-preservation have all taken on twisted, unhealthy guises and Marten's attempts to reconstruct their shattered lives only brings to light how irrevocably damaged the two men really are.
Nordstrand is a moody piece of work. The dowdy cinematography can be off-putting but it is an effective palette for the under the surface drama. The performances from both Michel and Schleiß slip seamlessly into the film's grey-blue tone. They each walk their own fine lines between giving too much too soon and underplaying their emotional contusions. The resultant undertow pulls you in, but slowly.
Before long, the enormity of the young men's situation hits with a thud reminiscent of Michael Haneke's disturbing Benny's Video, except here the violent outcomes have clear antecedents. Nordstrand is compelling in how it deals with the aftermath and insightful in how tightly that aftermath is woven into its thematic concerns. Eichinger perceptively unpicks the damage but he struggles to find a way to begin the healing process. Once both men are exposed, the film loses its way and its power peters out as it repeatedly steps over moments that could have served as more satisfying conclusions.
Nordstrand is simple, character driven film making that comes at its painful subject matter from a unique angle, and it delves surprisingly deep. It won't stun with its craft but the impact lingers nonetheless.
★★★
Trailer:
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