Irgendwann werden wir uns alles erzählen

A farm on the German-German border that recently stopped being a border, in the summer of 1990. Family members from the West visit and everyone is feeling their way through these uncertain new times as everyday life goes on in the summer heat. Son Johannes has turned the farmhouse’s attic into a refuge for his girlfriend Maria and himself. Maria is reading Dostoevsky and wanders through meadows, engaged in a search for the meaning of life. Her encounter with Henner, a much older neighbour, becomes her testing ground, drawing her in, like fate. One could say a tragic love takes its course. However, this would be a bit of an understatement in view of the raw sensuality and archaisms that have been transposed from Daniela Krien’s subtle novel into the atmosphere of Emily Atef’s film. Rarely has an adaptation of a vibrant literary text been able to create such energy, and even more rarely has it been able to revitalise virtues (in the truest sense of the word) which some might find old-fashioned. A film about charisma, naked bodies, the lack of willpower, and desire. An unadulterated, frank, and free-wheeling work that delivers an unexpected dose of German romanticism.