Longing

Sehnsucht, Germany 2006

A story of ordinary love in a defiantly non-glamorous mode, Valeska Grisebach's Longing packs a formidable emotional punch, all the more so for its spare aesthetic and sure-footed restraint. The director's second feature, following 2001's acclaimed Be My Star (Mein Stern), thrives on elliptical storytelling and undemonstratively subtle performances from non-professional leads…

Set in a village in the Berlin area, Longing is a portrait of love, marriage and heartbreak - big themes in a small, mundane milieu. Markus (Mueller) is a welder and volunteer fireman happily married to Ella (Welz), who sings in the local choir; the pair, in their 30s, share a passionate, sexually charged
attachment. A chance incident Markus's arrival on the scene of a suicide attempt sets them thinking about love and fate, but apparently has no direct affect on their relationship. But while away on a training weekend, Markus gets drunk and wakes up the next morning having spent the night with waitress Rose (Dornbusch). Markus goes back to Ella, and the pair's mutual passion seems undiluted, but he finds he can't keep away from Rose. He's caught between the two women until a sudden event the sort that gets viewers asking each other, "Did you see what just happened?" changes the course of all their lives.

Events move towards a drastic conclusion, as startling in its way as a comparable turn in a Michael Haneke film. But then Grisebach boldly switches mood in the coda, in which a group of local children comment on the story, wrapping up on a note that's both ambivalent and surprisingly upbeat.

Much of the film, dealing with domestic life and the routines of work and socialising from firemen's training to coffee mornings is acutely-observed naturalism in something like a Dardenne brothers vein. Indeed, like the Dardennes, Grisebach has the knack of getting under the skins of her characters without telling us too much or having them tell us about what they're feeling. She's one of those directors who can speak volumes about a person's interior life just through a close-up of the back of their head. And her attitude to her characters, while scrupulously distanced, always maintains an admirably non-judgmental respect for their complexities. Bubblegum pop and disco tunes are used sparingly and smartly, and a large, hungry rabbit makes a winning cameo. — Jonathan Romney, Screen International