Sterben

A superbly filmed, masterfully written and precisely acted requiem for fading family ties in five chapters and an epilogue, in which the complex characters take a non-trivial approach to dealing with their relationships with each other and the complicated problems associated with work, illnesses, childcare and various forms of dying in all of the complexity that life brings. The sophisticatedly constructed narrative changes perspective with each chapter, expanding the content of the overall situation and additionally enriching earlier events with new details and meanings. Dying is a brilliant work about the key influences on the formation of one’s personality and various ways of processing mental anguish, as well as about empathy and mutual understanding. A lot of its scenes, including several musical numbers, are worth remembering. Bravo. (06.07.2024)

A melodrama for better people in which not only lives perish, but so do career dreams, interpersonal bonds and memories. The film approaches various forms of dying (including its artistic interpretation) from the perspective of three generations and genres. First through tragicomic scenes from the life of an aging couple for whom existence is becoming hell. Then a stark, dialogue-heavy Bergman-esque character study of a forty-something man who wants to complete something valuable at least in his work, while conducting (his search for the ideal concept for the title composition reflects the transformations of the film itself). And finally a very relaxed, unpredictable millennial relationship story cut with gross-out comedy involving a lot of disgusting displays of bodily functions and whose protagonist has the most options in front of her, but is also the most thoroughly lost of the characters. The film is divided into five chapters that are so loosely connected that they could be episodes in a mini-series (from the fourth chapter onward, when the point of view is not bound to a single character, it further becomes apparent that the division into chapters is a bit of a narrative gimmick aimed at justifying the film’s dramaturgical and tonal disjointedness). Some of the characters, e.g. the mother, don’t appear again at all in the second half, or they remain trapped in stereotype templates (the young mistress). The narrative only brings forward many of the film’s themes, such as family iniquities and parenthood, without further developing them. Dying is an expansive family fresco, but it ultimately remains only an outline. Throughout the film, I could not shake off the feeling that the director hates his protagonists and does not wish anything good for them, no genuine connection, let alone redemption (which perhaps says something in the case of a film dedicated to “my family” and inspired by the departure of its creator’s parents). At the same time, the stylistic greyness would not be so striking on the small screen (for which Glasner has mostly worked in recent years). In terms of filming and working with the space, Dying practically doesn’t offer any inventive moments (with the possible exception of the death of one of the characters). Nor does it have a sufficiently polished screenplay that would make up for its visual dullness. On the other hand, after three hours of interchangeable shots and counter-shots, few of which are as concentrated and gripping as the half-hour conversation between the mother and her son, you will better understand what a slow and painful process dying actually is. 70% (18.10.2024)