“The Grim Reaper must be Viennese,” famous Austrian singer-songwriter Georg Kreißler once said. But is it death that makes Vienna so obscure, or is the city just the epicentre of a timeless yet out-of-place conglomerate of existences? Vienna is one of seven gates to hell, writer Lydia Haider, one of the protagonists of Philipp Jedicke’s music documentary-cum-musical Vienna Calling, states. That explains why people are the way they are. The underground music scene and its artists straying off the beaten track are an enigma. Vienna Calling had its world premiere at the 2023 edition of the Diagonale and is currently playing in Austrian cinemas, having been released by Filmladen Filmverleih GmbH on 25 August.

Portraying Vienna and its subcultures through the lens of an outsider is always a complex undertaking. Too often, this portrayal succumbs to clichéd Austro-Hungarian monarchy remembrance, waltzes, cakes, and the high culture of classical music and theatre. But there is the offbeat city, the dirty, grubby Vienna that is bristling with creative esprit, with a lust for life and with a penchant for lingering in the morbid. Plus a music scene that is thriving with talent. Young singers, encompassing Millennials and Gen Z, are rediscovering local dialects, challenging the stiff norms and creating a new type of Viennese identity.

It is telling that Jedicke steers clear of the usual hotspots of the inner city, Schönbrunn and all the other touristy sights. His protagonists dwell on deserted car parks in the third district, an old industrial area that is being gentrified, the Gürtel arterial road, the soft transition between hipster hotspots and the more rundown outskirts, the river Wien and its gloomy tunnels, and the alternative and youth scenes of the fifth, sixth and seventh districts. Following recently established but already cult-favourite artists like the aforementioned Haider, but also Der Nino aus Wien, Voodoo Jürgens, EsRap, Kerosin95, ZINN, Samu Casata and Gutlauninger, Jedicke also abstains from making this movie a reflection on the often-revisited, sometimes even dated, history of Austropop. He allows his protagonists to do their own thing, be it play with the camera, act or sing as they wish. There is a crackling authenticity to their shenanigans, whether it’s a concert, during COVID-19, at a peep show or at a planned illegal gathering on the banks of the Wien.

While Jedicke, an outsider trying to capture this special otherworldly flair of Vienna, manages to grasp this eccentric feel of the city with playful drone footage, eerie full moons over rooftops and soft autumn fog hanging between grey, asphalt streets, without ever fetishising his object of interest, there is a certain barrier to reaching the core of his story, and it’s one that he never quite overcomes. “We created a Disneyland. That is what pop music is about,” one of his protagonists quips about outsiders in Vienna. With his previous effort Shut Up and Play the Piano [+lire aussi :
bande-annonce
fiche film], about Canadian singer and piano player Chilly Gonzales, Jedicke managed to dive deeper into Gonzales’ complex personality and motivation. Here, in this abundance of characters, the movie never seems to dig in. The captured authenticity never amounts to a clear framing device for Jedicke’s narrative.

But maybe that is the point that Jedicke is trying to make – experiencing something while never being able to fully grasp it. The 90-minute running time only ever allows you to scratch the surface of what there is to unravel. And there is pleasure and entertainment to be found when Der Nino aus Wien turns a hairdressing salon into the backdrop for a musical performance, or when Gutlauninger basks in the glow of the disco light installed in a 1970s-style living room. But when viewed as a whole, these elements are not always enough.

Vienna Calling was produced by Amour Fou Vienna GmbH, in cooperation with Germany's Fruitmarket & Lizenzen.