Alma (Hanna Heckt), during 1913, looks at a picture of her late older sister who shares the same name as her. Mascha Schilinski’s Sound of Falling chooses her as one of four protagonists, girls with fascinations that seem taboo. There’s Angelika (Lena Urzendowsky), living in 20th century East Germany, having relations with two family members. Her uncle Uwe (Konstantin Lindhorst) feels her up under the table, in front of her mother Irm (Claudia Geisler-Bading). There’s Erika (Lea Drinda), living in the same house as Alma and Angelika but with her old uncle Fritz (Martin Rother) during 1940s Germany, who she creeps on. Lastly, there’s Lenka (Laeni Geiseler), one of two daughters of a 2020s couple who buys the house and renovates it. Also, that couple performs the craziest sexual act in recent film history.

This film is a good mix of impressionistic storytelling and maximalist cinematic techniques in subverting stereotypes about generations. This is also the most directed film this year with its cinematography and sound design. Although in some ways, the two story lines taking place closer to the present day are more oppressive than past ones. For instance, Angelika is not in control, obviously, when it comes to her relationships and whatever Uwe is doing. The film contrasts her relative lack of control with Alma who quasi-innocently sets her eyes on wherever she wants. Sometimes, Sound of Falling affirms, rightly, the ideas about past time being more repressive than maybe recent decades. Alma beholds herself to the class dynamics of the early 20th century in ways that Angelika or Lenka don’t have to.

‘All families are strange in their own way’ is another truth that Sound of Falling affirms through its film making. I already described that film making as simultaneously impressionistic and maximalist and I’ll add ‘personal’ too. Sometimes, the camera shows the visual perspective of its four protagonists, sometimes branching out into more. At others, it shows close-ups of those characters as they react to the visceral violence within their isolated worlds. For instance, it shows Alma’s face as she looks at a younger version of a disabled male relative, Fritz (Filip Schnack, playing a younger version of the 1940s Fritz). It fascinates her that he feels the pain of a leg long after his family cuts it out for him. Yes, this is that kind of film, for better or worse.

In Sound of Falling, neighbours and relatives and uncles have power but the main characters also see them as objects. They’re dark phantoms or topics of conversations that some of the main characters avoid for reasons that differ per character. For example, Rainer’s (Florian Geißelmann) confronts Angelika about Uwe, his father, but that doesn’t feel hostile. Part of that lack of hostility is that Angelika also knows that Rainer wants her, something that she takes advantage of. At other times, these female protagonists look at their fellow girls and women and examine those power dynamics too. Curiosity, death, and erotica intersect in a film that looks and sounds like strong memories that lie to us.

Sound of Falling is available to watch in select Canadian theatres and in MUBi, which-