Re: Christian Petzold
Posted: Sat Oct 18, 2025 11:00 pm
Miroirs No. 3
A single location drama like Afire, but this actually struck me as a return to the obscure, troubling, interpretively difficult pre-Barbara work, Ghosts trilogy especially. Paula Beer and her boyfriend get in a typically miraculous/mysterious Petzold car crash on a country road, the boyfriend is killed, and Beer is taken in by Barbara Auer where she becomes enmeshed in a family with a troubled history. So the setup for a torrid melodrama, which no one will be surprised to hear Petzold invests both with dramatic heft through intensely realistic details and with an atmosphere of the dreamlike and otherworldly through elisions and quiet improbabilities. Fraught interpersonal relationships, fuzzy and troubling motivations, symbols of transportation, and the nature of work and money figure in. As you'd expect.
Unlike their last three films, Petzold has given Beer a typical Nina Hoss role: opaque and reserved, not revealing much in terms of psychology. But Beer is more guileless than Hoss tended to play her roles, internalized but instinctual and unreflective where Hoss always seemed to be thinking. No, what really made it seem like a Hoss role is that finally Beer's character isn't circling a central male character. I don't mean that as a criticism, because Petzold has always avoided the kind of sexism that my description there suggests. But Petzold really centres Beer this time, and it's her relationship with the family that takes her in that defines the narrative. Unlike with Hoss, Petzold has tended to figure Beer as unknowable because otherworldly: as a ghost in Transit, a folklore figure in Undine, and a manic pixie dream girl in Afire (the latter is the most successful in this regard for how acutely is plays around with genre expectations and the flattened assumptions they lead to). But that's not the case here--or at least not in the same way. Beer's otherworldliness set her off from the characters in the other films, or at least from the main character, while here it's her relationship with Barbara Auer and the circumstances she finds herself in that's oddly unreal. Indeed, the elisions and narrative obscurities make Beer's character feel like she's been plunked into a movie suddenly, with only a dim connection to the life outside when the story begins. She wanders through it in something of a dazed state, and does so even before her car accident. One can posit both realistic and non-realistic reasons, but either way, Beer inhabits rather than is defined by the otherwordly atmosphere.
So where do I rank this in Petzold's filmmography? I'm...not sure. Afire I thought might well be his masterpiece, a film of considerable strength that both worked Petzold's usual themes and style while revealing things I hadn't seen from him before. Miroirs No. 3 is doing the opposite, it's going back towards an earlier mode. In that it holds fewer surprises, and with its short length and narrative simplicity, seems intended to be a minor work. Letterboxed seems to agree it's minor, anyway. My problem is that, like with Ghosts, I find it difficult on a first viewing to say what the film is ultimately doing. Sure, its narrative seems straightforward and predictable, but its opaqueness makes me wary, makes me think that Petzold is up to a lot more than strikes you on a first viewing. It's a subtle, audience repelling film in a lot of ways, and a quietly funny one (my screening's audience was wonderfully receptive to its jokes). And most fascinating is that despite being very short, it continues past its natural ending point to arrive at odd plot points I found hard to interpret. My instinct is that it doesn't stand with Afire, but is more cohesive than Transit. I think I might put it with Undine in the rather good but not a Petzold masterpiece category. Again, the movie puts its characters into easily interpretable roles, yet hides them under enough odd layers that I wonder if the film isn't considerably weightier than it comes across. I thought it was fascinating all through, anyway.
Tangential, but Barbara Auer is an unrecognized Petzold woman. Not hard to see why: of the features, she only starred in The State I am In and has minor roles in Yella and Transit. But she was also a main character in Petzold's three feature-length Polizeiruf 110 episodes. With all that and this new one, she has a greater presence in Petzold's filmmography than Julia Hummer. She is very good here: mysterious and layered, never overplaying things, always hitting the right balance. She delivers a monologue early in the film narrating an episode from Tom Sawyer that does this perfect highwire trick of revealing everything and nothing at the same time (seriously, the moment seems to give everything away while at the same time being totally misleading).
A single location drama like Afire, but this actually struck me as a return to the obscure, troubling, interpretively difficult pre-Barbara work, Ghosts trilogy especially. Paula Beer and her boyfriend get in a typically miraculous/mysterious Petzold car crash on a country road, the boyfriend is killed, and Beer is taken in by Barbara Auer where she becomes enmeshed in a family with a troubled history. So the setup for a torrid melodrama, which no one will be surprised to hear Petzold invests both with dramatic heft through intensely realistic details and with an atmosphere of the dreamlike and otherworldly through elisions and quiet improbabilities. Fraught interpersonal relationships, fuzzy and troubling motivations, symbols of transportation, and the nature of work and money figure in. As you'd expect.
Unlike their last three films, Petzold has given Beer a typical Nina Hoss role: opaque and reserved, not revealing much in terms of psychology. But Beer is more guileless than Hoss tended to play her roles, internalized but instinctual and unreflective where Hoss always seemed to be thinking. No, what really made it seem like a Hoss role is that finally Beer's character isn't circling a central male character. I don't mean that as a criticism, because Petzold has always avoided the kind of sexism that my description there suggests. But Petzold really centres Beer this time, and it's her relationship with the family that takes her in that defines the narrative. Unlike with Hoss, Petzold has tended to figure Beer as unknowable because otherworldly: as a ghost in Transit, a folklore figure in Undine, and a manic pixie dream girl in Afire (the latter is the most successful in this regard for how acutely is plays around with genre expectations and the flattened assumptions they lead to). But that's not the case here--or at least not in the same way. Beer's otherworldliness set her off from the characters in the other films, or at least from the main character, while here it's her relationship with Barbara Auer and the circumstances she finds herself in that's oddly unreal. Indeed, the elisions and narrative obscurities make Beer's character feel like she's been plunked into a movie suddenly, with only a dim connection to the life outside when the story begins. She wanders through it in something of a dazed state, and does so even before her car accident. One can posit both realistic and non-realistic reasons, but either way, Beer inhabits rather than is defined by the otherwordly atmosphere.
So where do I rank this in Petzold's filmmography? I'm...not sure. Afire I thought might well be his masterpiece, a film of considerable strength that both worked Petzold's usual themes and style while revealing things I hadn't seen from him before. Miroirs No. 3 is doing the opposite, it's going back towards an earlier mode. In that it holds fewer surprises, and with its short length and narrative simplicity, seems intended to be a minor work. Letterboxed seems to agree it's minor, anyway. My problem is that, like with Ghosts, I find it difficult on a first viewing to say what the film is ultimately doing. Sure, its narrative seems straightforward and predictable, but its opaqueness makes me wary, makes me think that Petzold is up to a lot more than strikes you on a first viewing. It's a subtle, audience repelling film in a lot of ways, and a quietly funny one (my screening's audience was wonderfully receptive to its jokes). And most fascinating is that despite being very short, it continues past its natural ending point to arrive at odd plot points I found hard to interpret. My instinct is that it doesn't stand with Afire, but is more cohesive than Transit. I think I might put it with Undine in the rather good but not a Petzold masterpiece category. Again, the movie puts its characters into easily interpretable roles, yet hides them under enough odd layers that I wonder if the film isn't considerably weightier than it comes across. I thought it was fascinating all through, anyway.
Tangential, but Barbara Auer is an unrecognized Petzold woman. Not hard to see why: of the features, she only starred in The State I am In and has minor roles in Yella and Transit. But she was also a main character in Petzold's three feature-length Polizeiruf 110 episodes. With all that and this new one, she has a greater presence in Petzold's filmmography than Julia Hummer. She is very good here: mysterious and layered, never overplaying things, always hitting the right balance. She delivers a monologue early in the film narrating an episode from Tom Sawyer that does this perfect highwire trick of revealing everything and nothing at the same time (seriously, the moment seems to give everything away while at the same time being totally misleading).