A young Tyrolean who feels so alien in the world of his home farm that he prefers to spend his life alone in a mountain hut: In “Märzengrund” Adrian Goiginger uses this story to explore the question of what really counts in life. In his film, which celebrated its world premiere at the Diagonale on Friday, the shooting star director shows no rustic romance, but rather the harsh reality of life that results from the decision to be lonely.
For the follow-up project to his sensational success “The Best of All Worlds” (2017), the 31-year-old took the play of the same name by Felix Mitterer, who also worked on the screenplay, as a template. In the usual unsparing manner, Mitterer does not describe a “back to nature” idyll, but a painful path to self-discovery that does not end for a lifetime. The – true – story begins in 1967 and shows young Elias, who has little enthusiasm to follow in his father’s footsteps and take over the farm. He doesn’t dislike the work, but the way he is supposed to do it. When he has to watch his father take the farm from a neighbor who is addicted to gambling for a ridiculous price, he suffers torment. On the other hand, he is very enthusiastic regarding the books that his mother brings him. Goiginger lets his protagonist speak little, works with silent close-ups of the face to show its isolation.
A woman – older and divorced – brings regarding the turning point. “I feel like a stranger,” says Elias. “Maybe we are strangers here,” comes the answer, followed by a long silence. The taciturnity of the two culminates in an underwater scene where talking is no longer even possible. The parents send the boy to the Alm, and there, on the Märzengrund, he finds his peace. “I finally found my place in society” says Elias paradoxically at the moment when he withdraws from society.
When he finally decides to live in his mountain cabin, he takes a dip in a small lake on the way there – and emerges from the icy water as a man 40 years his senior. An image that at the same time suggests baptism, a new beginning, but also hardness towards oneself. This hardship will be decisive for the next few decades, because the price of freedom is loneliness, sometimes coupled with despair. A short excursion into civilization due to an illness makes it clear to the man where he belongs: “Up, up, until I’m completely free”.
The long, calm landscape shots create a clarity that leaves the focus entirely on the man’s inner conflict. When he finally walks high up in the blazing sun instead of continuing treatment in the hospital, the possibility of a self-determined death also seems to be hinted at.
Jakob Mader as a young Elias and Johannes Krisch as an older Elias both convince with almost wordless intensity, Gerti Drassl is the worried but only understanding mother within the scope of her possibilities. Verena Altenberger, as a sister who is supposed to become a teacher, impresses with the clarity with which she rejects the life of her parents without making such a radical change as her brother – and thus continues the convincing cooperation with Goiginger, which both started with “Die best of all worlds” had begun.
(S E R V I C E – )
