On the eighth day of the festival, cinema has lost all ritual and all signs of mysticism. The cinematic experience has become part of the routine: to be credited, to dismiss the staff of the room and to do it directly to the seat. Without magic, it's a mere formality. Today, however, I have approached the room earlier than normal, I have confirmed several times that I had access and I waited eagerly until the screen is turned on, until the names of the actors are announced in red letter. Today I've had the first opportunity to watch a Christian Petzold movie on the big screen within Pearls programming.
Felix (Langston Uibel) and León (Thomas Schubert) travel to the German coastal farm to spend the summer, one photographer and another writer. They are looking for quality time to work on their projects, but the appearance of Nadja, one of Paula Beer’s favorite actresses, breaks the desired calm atmosphere. Obsessed by the writing of the new book and by the excessive greed, León believes that the world has turned against, ignoring the looks of desire that cross around him and the good intentions of his friends. As the atmosphere heats up, the flames of the interior of León will remain on until you notice the glory of the forest fire threatening the environment.
The penetrating Rotter Himmel inevitably hides the echo of Rohmer's cinematography. And in my eyes also like Honeymoon from the American Dan Sallitt. Because if you asked me what's going on in Rotter Himmel, my most sincere answer would be nothing. Or, at least, little. Interviews, walks, dinners, dialogues, walks, dinners, dialogues… Magnetic representations based on a compact script support the hypnotic flow of the film as a whole.
In this sense, Petzold does not need a large bomb to build a penetrating plot. This time, he drives away the usual mysteries and ghosts of his films, removing the cover from the pastries, proving to be one of the most skilled storytellers of contemporary cinema.
Few presentations need the documentary Bidasoa 2018-2023 and its director, Fermin Muguruza. What is presented in the Zinemira section aims to offer a faithful and close photograph of what has happened – and built – on the Bidasoa border in recent years. It uses animation, testimonies and, of course, music.
We could say that the documentary is built around three main ideas. The first, against the provocative titles of "the river that kills", proclaims Muguruza that the river does not kill. On the contrary, it points to racist policies and police persecution of all colours. Migrants take dangerous roads because they cannot cross the bridge of Santiago like any other Iraqi, including the river.
Secondly, the film decidedly chooses to recover the dignity of those trying to cross the border. Migrants are sometimes denied recognition of their humanity, as if nothing was under the "immigrant" label. In this sense, the film undertakes to preserve the memory of those who lost their lives in the Bidasoa in 2021, assuming its name and history a central role.
Finally, it is emphasized that the river is a meeting point and a source of life, and not only that, but also a cradle of multiple struggles and profound and broad alliances. This is represented by the words of the members of the Reception Network who work on both sides of the river and the Bidasoa Immigrant groups. Bidasoa 2018-2023 can only be understood as the result of committed work by the latter and others.