Art is a means through which to express and communicate our inner worlds, and a space in which to lend visible form to, and share, our trauma. The documentary Despite the Scars - Felix Rier’s debut work which won an award at Biografilm - shows how dance can be a tool for lending physical form to an individual’s emotions, including the pain felt on account of rape. The film is currently screening in cinemas across various Italian cities (the full schedule can be found here) and screenings are also planned in January in Milan, Turin and Rome, with support from Ucca.

Several years ago, Thea Malfertheiner was walking alone in a park in the Friedrichshain-Kreuzberg neighbourhood, making her way to Berghain - Berlin’s famous techno club - when she was attacked and raped by three people. She spoke about this horrific experience with her friend, Felix, the author of this film, and a year later they decided to share this story, “because”, as Thea writes in her diary, “we mustn’t stay silent about things that matter”. Despite the Scars follows the grieving process embarked upon by this wounded woman who lives in eastern Berlin. The sensation of wanting to escape her body and life, the lack of a period for almost 9 months, panic attacks, nightmares in which she’s attacked by her own friends... The documentary divides its 72 minutes between five different places: the apartment Thea shares with her partner, Thiago (whom she met after the sexual attack), and her dog, Mandinga; the roads and parks where Thea walks Mandinga, who gave the young woman strength to walk among people again; the practice where she meets the psychoanalyst who uses EMDR, a therapy based on re-processing trauma; the courtroom where the criminals are tried, which the director’s camera doesn’t enter into, and, finally, the dance school.

The latter is the ultimate “soul-healing” location where the film takes a broader view and a more fascinating turn, cinematographically speaking. Thea works with her team of dancers on choreography linked to her experience. She invites the others to become aware of the bodies around them, “to perceive and identify desire, intentions, consent”.  In this sense, dance becomes therapy, it becomes the main bridge between body and soul - the two sides of the self - and it’s the connecting element between bodies moving around in the same space, resulting in a propensity to relate to the other, with people who somehow enter into our sphere of influence.

Also incorporating short recordings  – by way of editor Angela Disanto - of Thea filming herself while alone, using a small video camera and talking directly into it, Rier opts for an anti-rhetorical and measured mise en scène approach, which makes no secret of the affectionate empathy and love stemming from his friendship with the protagonist. There’s warmth and sophistication, there’s the beauty of a slow healing process, and a rebirth, “despite the scars”, when Thea realises she’s pregnant and when she finally realises she’s able to control her emotions and allows the baby to pull her hair or grab her neck with its little hands, which she wouldn’t previously have accepted from anyone. It’s a life lesson with the potential to combat patriarchal dynamics. Thea is a survivor who underscores the importance of tackling pain, “welcoming it and allowing it to be part of our story, without allowing it to define us”.

The film was produced by Helios Sustainable Films, which is moving forward with negotiations for a release in Germany and France.