Afire
The lyrics to the opening and closing song to Afire say, “In my mind / We’re gonna live free and live wild / We’ll be living in a life just right”. This track by Wallners (aptly titled “in my mind”) perfectly captures the core of Leon (Thomas Schubert), the protagonist in Christian Petzold’s latest drama and second entry in his elemental series, which started with the water-based fantastical romance Undine.
Leon is a writer with a mildly successful debut novel, currently experiencing a creative slump with his sophomore. He is a narcissist, a self-centered man who cares very little about his friends and everyone else surrounding him. In his mind, he sees himself as a good man and a great writer. In his mind, he falls in love with Nadja (Paula Beer), a mysterious woman who happens to be at the holiday house of Felix’s (Langston Uibel) family. In reality, Leon is a terrible person and a worse artist, belittling the creative ideas that his friend Felix has for a photographic portfolio, and acting like a snobbish creep around Nadja.
Leon experiences life on a purely intellectual level, without empathy, while Nadja and Felix enjoy living on a more visceral, human level. The looming fear of growing forest fires cast a shadow of impending tragedy over Afire, and that burning fire can be found inside Leon’s persona. Schubert does a wonderful job of bringing to life such a pitiful character: how bitter he can be, making snarky remarks at Felix’s new boyfriend, never actually showing any interest in what Nadja might be doing with her life. He is contrasted by the warmth of Beer’s smile and her expressive eyes, with a charisma that makes it easy to fall in love with her at first sight.
In a way, Afire plays like a darker cousin to Steven Spielberg’s The Fabelmans. Petzold crafts a character study of an artist, whose characteristics are fairly widespread amongst creatives: every waking moment is spent thinking about art, about creating, forgetting to live life to the fullest. Feedback is asked, but every response that does not reaffirm the genius of his creation is instantly dismissed. The hilariously titled “Club Sandwich” that Leon is writing may have potential, yet his lack of human empathy and borderline sociopathic tendencies keep him from making anything artistic and worthwhile. It is frustrating to see this despicable man on screen, mistreating those who somehow care for him, because so much of him can be found inside of anyone who creates art.
Afire is a mirror to every artist out there, with a grotesque reflection that hits deeply and personally. Just like the fast-approaching wildfires, it starts slow, but the heat keeps on rising and rising until it hits a boiling point: tensions explode, bitterness turns to hate, and it is too late to make amends. Petzold’s dramas often have a cold exterior with a warm core, but Afire may be his most inspired effort yet, with a contained narrative conceived during lockdown that gives birth to memorable characters, poignant moments of poetry, and a surprisingly hopeful ending for Leon and his creations. In the final moments, Petzold reminds viewers that it is never too late to change and forgive, a message that is very welcome in our current dark days.