When someone breaks in somewhere, the motive behind it is usually to take something valuable from that place. Rarely do the burglars leave something behind, and if that is the case, it’s usually some kind of surveillance equipment that gets installed somewhere. Is it somehow more ethical if someone does this for the purposes of scientific research? Where exactly do the boundaries of other people’s privacy lie, and what goes on in our homes when we’re not there? These are the initial questions underpinning Pascal Schuh’s graduation work and feature-length debut, Interior, which has just premiered in Tallinn Black Nights’ First Feature Competition.

(L'articolo continua qui sotto - Inf. pubblicitaria)

A mute burglar credited as Kasimir (Daniil Kremkin) gets smuggled into other people’s houses when they are away in order to set up surveillance systems. He then clandestinely films them in their most intimate moments and brings the tapes to the enigmatic Dr Liebermann (Knut Berger), who studies human emotions, people’s reactions to them and human behaviour in general. Kasimir also lives with the doctor, in the garage in his home, and always prepares the same dinner for both of them day after day. Sometimes, they have karaoke sessions. Maybe Dr Liebermann is onto something big, and Kasimir’s role is essential for it.

The doctor’s rules for Kasimir’s actions are simple and strict: he cannot interfere, no matter what happens, because he would compromise the data by doing so. But, although there is some kind of Frankenstein dynamic between the two, Kasimir is not an emotionless monster, so when the situations he observes become more complex or get downright life-threatening, he is bound to react and interfere. On the other hand, the cold, methodical doctor starts harbouring feelings for a person he initially treated as a tool…

Think of Ari Aster’s Hereditary and Midsommar conceived in a vein shifting from the Greek Weird Wave to Harmony Korine’s nihilist cinema, and constructed around dark and bizarre anecdotes lifted directly from the crime and accidents pages of German local newspapers, and that would be one way to describe Interior. Another would be the emotional arc from the story of Frankenstein with an added hint of queer romance. However, although there are plenty of references to be found in, or read into, the movie, Interior is something new, refreshing, brave, and made with lashings of vision and skill.

Every single component is well thought out and quintessential to the film – from the unique production design by Olga Gredig, the costumes, the score by Erik Johann Fodi that keeps introducing new instruments into the mix, all the way to Greta Isabella Conte’s camerawork, which gets messier as the emotions turn more complicated, and the ever-precise editing by Frederik Franke. The centrepiece sequence of open brain surgery blended with a saxophone solo and a disturbing dream sequence is a virtuoso showcase of Schuh’s filmmaking talent and could easily stand alone as a separate short film, but it serves equally well as part of this feature.

Interior is a student film made on a shoestring budget, but it has been crafted with enthusiasm and vision, meaning that all of the right decisions have been made along the way. It could probably not have been made any other way, since it is definitely well considered, but never calculated. It is an unhinged, shocking, bold, cerebral and visceral piece of cinema that we do not get to see often enough on the festival circuit, and it must have been a herculean effort for the young crew behind it.

Interior is a German production by Schöne Aussichten Filmproduktion in co-production with Filmuniversity Babelsberg KONRAD WOLF.