Mia Maestro is haunted by some manic fans in Lucio Castro’s unsatisfying Berlinale Special feature.
Awkward dirty talk seems to be a thing at this year’s Berlinale, since Lucio Castro’s uneasy psychological thriller is only one of at least three feature films dwelling on an explicit conversation among potential partners. In the Argentinian directors sophomore feature these are Argentinian voice actor Isabel (Mia Maestro, whose earnest performance is easily the best thing about the whole film) and musician Elliott (Lee Pace). He is the guru-like lead singer and songwriter – though he gives the second credit to his withdrawn composer-brother Ronnie (Philip Ettinger) – of an electronic rock band called Likeliness Increases. The name is one of many broad hints to the strange events of the muddy plot.
Even more significant are the droning synthesizer songs. Their lyrics which are filled with pretentious references to death, passion and resurrection have an almost hypnotic influence on their cultish fanbase. Among them is Isabel’s friend Alice (Gwendoline Christie) who takes her to a concert. Later one might ponder if this was part of a larger plan but too many twists in this murky musical mystery remain frustratingly opaque. Everyone in the concert audience seems enthralled by Elliott’s poetry-slam-like vocalization, apart from Isabel. However, she is clearly physically interested in Elliott whom she met coincidentally – or fatefully? – on a hike in a cave. And it gets weirder from there.
Seduced by his post-concert dirty talk, Isabel starts an affair with Elliott. He is turned on by her being visibly pregnant, she is turned on by sucking his smelly feet. All these aspects are verbally stated, as is the detail that Isabel’s philandering husband Ted (a bland part, giving Rupert Friend little to do) wouldn’t care about her tryst. What seems like a setup for a vintage-style erotic thriller where one person becomes dangerously jealous, veers into a half baked metaphysical allegory. First Elliot disappears. Then Isabel’s motherhood plans go awry. This drives the protagonist, who suffered a family tragedy in the past, literally over the edge.
However, she is saved by bizarre circumstances, which lead Elliot’s followers to believe he was reborn in her and she must now finish his long-awaited final album. These fans are so serious about their music, they send late night harlequin messengers to make their point. If you think films featuring late night harlequin messengers quoting wannabe-NIN lyrics can’t be entirely bad, well, not entirely. Maestro gives her character more credibility than her absurd actions warrant and Castro’s use of genre elements to underline Isabel’s growing anxiety makes for some nice chills. Barton Cortright’s cinematography drenches the scenery in a muted color palette of autumnal green, brown and burgundy.
But acting and atmosphere can’t overcome the plot’s silliness and sexism. The hyper-stylized mysticism, borderline absurdist dialogue and psychoanalytical subtext have a pseudo-lynchian vibe. Castro, though, seems to be more after comparisons with Hitchcock whom Isabel names as her mother’s favorite director. The personal trauma she casually reveals along this trivia is ultimately huddled into a faux feminist message. It suggests that Isabel finally finds her own voice instead of reading aloud other people’s lines. But others enforce that supposed self-determination and a man inspires it and uses her as his vessel. Even with all the experimental sound bits wrapped around, this seems more antiquated than avant-garde.
- OT: After This Death
- Director: Lucio Castro
- Screenplay: Lucio Castro
- Year: 2025
- Distribution | Production © 2AM Films | Kindred Spirit
