LFF 2020: Undine
LFF 2020Fresh from the acclaim of 2018’s Transit, Christian Petzold has returned with another feature in which the old and the new are merged. His aforementioned effort, like a modernised version of Casablanca, transposed 1940s wartime anxieties to a present-day setting, using the treacherous nature of borders to craft a tense, romantic and politically charged thriller.
His latest project, Undine, isn’t so much an experiment in form but rather a modern retelling of a classic German fairytale. Paula Beer plays the titular character, a freelance lecturer specialising in the history and development of Berlin who is going through something of a crisis. She’s undervalued professionally and cut adrift by an adulturous lover (Jacob Matschenz) whom she vows to murder as penance for his sins. Luckily, a tender meeting with Christoph (Franz Rogowski) wakes Undine from her slumber, leading to a whirlwind romance that progresses rapidly. As time progresses, she begins to develop an affinity with local sources of water, a trait heightened by Christoph’s profession as an underwater repairman.
In the same vein as breakout hits Barbara and Phoenix, Petzold revels in these conceptual dramas – with Undine being another example of the director attempting to craft unique worlds. Berlin is presented with a keen eye for detail, eschewing travelogue conventions for a far more suburbanised feel, whether it be narrow walkways, local resting places or small coffee shops. With the help of cinematographer Hans Fromm, Undine herself is encoded with a sense of vagueness as she peers through windows or cleanses herself in water; it’s the framing, rather than her characteristics, that goes some way to formulating this mythical quality.
Unfortunately, the clash between fantasy and realism is never reconciled, with the film operating in a middle-ground where both facets feel underdeveloped and at war with each other. The fairytale aspect is curiously downplayed, with the aquatic scenes possessing both a thematic and aesthetic stiltedness. Similarly, the central romance lacks a spark, a consequence of muddled ambition and average writing; aside from a few lovely passages, the connection between the two is surprisingly lacking given the talent involved.
This isn’t necessarily a fault of the two stars, who once again offer nuanced and charismatic performances. Beer, who picked up the award for Best Actress at the Berlin Film Festival for her work, is undoubtedly a star in the making, with the immense maturity and versatility on show belying her age. Rogowski, fresh from collaborations with Michael Haneke (Happy End) and Terrence Malick (A Hidden Life), turns in another sympathetic performance, exuding warmth and tenderness with his hushed voice and soft mannerisms.
It’s a shame that, even with two engaging performances, the writing doesn’t allow them to flourish. When factoring in how spectacularly melodrama was handled in Transit, and starring the same leading pair no less, Undine can’t help but feel like a disappointment. In trying to recontextualise a fairytale for the modern age, Petzold has inadvertently sapped some of the magic that is inherent in these tales, seemingly being torn between the fantasy and the real. As opposed to a thematic forefather like The Shape of Water, which served as an ode to classical movies, Undine tries to honour old-fashioned tales and Berlin whilst juggling themes of self-improvement, resulting in a product that is simultaneously overstuffed yet underdeveloped.