Sound of Falling (In die Sonne schauen) is Mascha Schilinski’s sophomore film, following Die Tochter (2017). That film’s main raison d’être is that it introduced Helena Zengel to the world two years before Systemsprenger. While the debut feature premiered at the Berlinale, the follow-up was the first film screened at this year’s Cannes Film Festival competition. Set on a farm in the Altmark region, spanning a century, the film intertwines the lives of four girls—Alma, Erika, Angelika, and Lenka—each living in different eras (the early 20th century, the 1940s, the 1980s, and the present day) but connected by the same farmhouse. Schilinski’s film explores intergenerational trauma, female resilience, and memory, with the farm bearing echoes of past pain.

The narrative, for want of a better term, is non-linear and impressionistic. The opening sequence sets the tone for what is to come. The camera lingers on the weathered exterior of an old farmhouse, accompanied by an eerie, droning sound. This recurring noise theme will be prevalent throughout the film, particularly at pivotal moments. The prologue continues with abstract, dreamlike visuals of the same farmhouse in different eras, with faint echoes of voices and footsteps overlapping. The first character we will meet is Erika (Lea Drinda) from the second story, hopping around on one leg with crutches. When her father calls her outside to take care of the pigs, she is greeted with a slap in the face.

That is far from the last abusive act in the film. Erika doesn’t seem shocked but reacts with a smile directed towards the camera. The crutches belong to her uncle Fritz, who apparently lost his leg in a work accident. He is taken care of by the maid Trudi, who herself had to undergo sterilisation “to be safe for the men.” Thus, pain is established as a constant theme. Different characters serve as narrators across the various eras. All but one of them are female. Nine-year-old Alma is the first one, and she obviously doesn’t fully understand everything she witnesses. In a different manner, the same may be true for the spectator, not least during the film’s first hour.

Anatomy of the Sound of Falling

Things will somewhat fall into place later, but if it doesn’t, that is not necessarily a detriment to the film. Sound of Falling has an intriguing form, and the director and her cinematographer/husband, Fabian Gamper, are aiming for a narrative (in the sense that Helène Cattet used the word) where the four eras not merely mirror each other but possibly become part of a single shared memory. Schilinski has mentioned a photograph she found at the spot where the film was shot with three maids looking into the camera. That image was one of the starting points for Schilinski and her co-writer Louise Peter and got them thinking about absolutely opposite things happening in the same room during different eras.

Sound of Falling is the most ambitious Cannes competition film since Jerzy Skolimowski’s EO in 2022. One could argue that it doesn’t say much after the last two lacklustre years. The fact remains that it is a film with a rare formal awareness that deserves applause. Some critics have said that this is as far as arthouse cinema can go, which is, at best, droll. Others have seen it as a failure, with the worst offenders being those who seem to think that films must deliver a statement or provide an upbeat counterpoint to the horrors we witness. The expression horror story has been used more than once. It should be noted that Schilinski never succumbs to horror film tropes.

I was unlucky enough to listen to a podcast being recorded on the press terrace after the screening. The outlet in question was once the best in the US and a serious rival to European ones but has declined significantly in recent years. Both guests were impressed by the film. Still, the host chose to rant about “the fetishisation of sexual violence, women’s traumas”, which, in her mind “, gets tiring when it is disconnected from the larger historical framework”. She continued by saying, “All of it feels like it’s in favour of creating a puzzle-like structure rather than making a larger point.” It gets even worse from there. Fortunately, the film was well-received by critics who are less emotionally driven.

Does Mascha Schilinski achieve all her lofty ambitions? I would say no, but merely since I think that no currently living director would be able to succeed 100% with the formal conceit that the director has set up for herself. It is a gargantuan task that the director is attempting, and the fact that she achieves a considerable amount of what she seems to aim for makes this film a must-see. I wasn’t sure exactly what to think after the first screening. I was filled with awe but still irritated by moments I perceived as Hanekeisms. I decided to rewatch the film the following morning. The second watch, sitting closer to the screen, impressed me even more.

Still, I would not agree with the numerous critics who have labelled Sound of Falling as “avant-garde” or “extremely experimental”. There is nothing in the film that I haven’t seen before, and numerous other directors came to my mind while watching. Among them were Helma Sanders-Brahms (Henrich 1977), György Palfi (Hukkle, Taxidermia), and certain aspects of directors as far apart as Jane Campion (The early works) Robert Bresson, and Gábor Bódy. Few films have been as successful at conjuring the invisible or even intangible as this one, which is not only fluid but occasionally seems to take on the shape of a fluid as well.

There are several aspects of the film that I have hardly touched upon. The area is located near the River Elbe, which for many years served as a border between West and East Germany. The film, fortunately, doesn’t overstate this fact, even though it is an undercurrent in the film (no pun intended). Without a doubt, I am missing references that will be obvious to a German spectator. The use of language is also essential. I am not necessarily referring to the region’s dialect but rather to the way the implications of certain phrases are gradually revealed.

A musical motif in the film is the song Stranger by Anna von Hausswolff. Although the artist’s name sounds distinctly German, she is actually Swedish. It could be argued that the piece has been used before in a particular TV show, and I am typically sceptical of this usage of music. Not least when it bleeds into the end credits, but here, it works beautifully. The soundscape is, in general, a significant strength in the film, and not merely in the sense of the overused term immersive. However you feel about the film’s aesthetics afterwards, it is constantly riveting and entertaining. The Sound of Falling is a film worth watching and rewatching. I will surely see it again.