Berlinale-Blogger 2017 Journeying through the Competition
Since its formation in 1951, the films in Berlinale's official competition have taken viewers on a journey that ranges much further than the trip from their home to the cinema. From the courtroom drama of "12 Angry Men" to the rural life of "Red Sorghum" to the animated wonder of "Spirited Away", each winner and contender has sent audiences far and wide — including "Taxi’s" ride around modern-day Tehran and "Fire at the Sea’s" intimate look at refugees crossing the Mediterranean, the festival’s two most recent winners.
These jaunts manifest in many ways: taking viewers to a place they've never been or into a way of life they've never seen; allowing them to watch someone else's trek; charting a physical, external trip; or navigating an internalised state of change, for example. Indeed, 2017’s slate of competitors traverse a multitude of adventures, but remain united in whisking away the Berlinale masses along with them. In three of the films to screen thus far, viewers are transported to an outlandish attempt to escape a mundane life, a fight for acceptance and dignity, and a place where the sun blazes through the evening.
Naked runs through snowIn Wild Mouse, Georg (Josef Hader) scurries like the creature that gives the movie its name — and, while he's always moving, he never gets far. As a music critic happy to have worked at the same newspaper for decades, then finding himself lost when he's let go as a cost cutting measure, his restlessness and listlessness quickly come to epitomise his broader problems. Instead of confronting his new situation, he hangs out in a fairground all day. Rather than talk to his wife Johanna (Pia Hierzegger) regarding their efforts to start a family, he avoids coming home. Revenge and suicide plots, miniature train rides and naked runs through the snow all eventuate. Turned comedian, turned writer, director and star Hader ensures his portrait of a man in disarray is haunted by the paths both taken and ignored.
There's a difference between running away from reality and responsibility as a method of distraction, of course, and circling the life you're fighting to call your own due to circumstances out of your control. It's the latter that the titular figure in Sebastián Lelio’s A Fantastic Woman, Marina (Daniela Vega), experiences when her older boyfriend dies suddenly, leaving her open to intensive scrutiny about her transgender status and their love. The hospital, the police, the ex-wife, grown son and broader family: all remain suspicious and flaunt their narrow-mindedness. Embarking upon a journey to claim her space in the world free from marginalisation, Marina is forced not only to grieve, but battle to do so while being subjected to — and striving to subvert — traditional societal prejudices.