Perhaps the most salient and unsung thread in last year’s arthouse comedy epic “Toni Erdmann” examined the shifting economic frontiers in Europe. This becomes the point of departure for “Western”—the third feature of fellow German filmmaker Valeska Grisebach—which further scrutinizes the human scale of these permeable borders. This, however, is where the similarities end; as its title suggests, Grisebach’s film takes on the classical American genre of the Western as a template for its thematic preoccupations. “Western” makes its North American Premiere at TIFF, serving as a festival-circuit centerpiece for arthouse audiences with the patience for this revisionist oater’s opaque storytelling.
Like the best of its genre forerunners, “Western” is pretty straightforward in its scenario, which follows a group of German laborers that take up employment in the Bulgaria countryside. As stoic protagonist Meinhard (Meinhard Neumann) professes in the prologue, “I’m here to earn money”—the experience is about capital, not human connection. With this attitude, the workers set themselves apart from the local population, distanced largely by language (unlike in “Toni Erdmann,” English does not serve as linguistic unifier here) as well as social customs. During a work stoppage, Meinhard—a former legionnaire—sets himself apart from pack by ingratiating himself with the locals and beings to finds more to appreciate in their humble lives and scenic surroundings than the macho tension percolating in the German camp. Neumann, bringing a Sam Elliott-moustache to his performance, carries himself with the confidence of a cowboy type but remains otherwise inscrutable. His character is established patiently over the two-hour duration of “Western,” accumulating from the smallest words and gestures. It’s not a star-making performance by any means, but Neumann beyond being a physical type the actor resonates as a substantial, flesh-and-blood person, albeit one we have minimal access to.
Despite the presence of a few dominant symbols—a white horse being the most conspicuous—“Western” primarily plays out in the domain of the empirical. That is to say that the film feels like the sum of its surfaces; the vistas and male bodies that fill the frame simply are, not serving as stand-ins for grander ideas. Grisebach sticks to her guns and refuses any kind of expository or emotional outbursts, even when Meinhard’s resistance to psychological scrutiny makes for a frustrating tack. If the film never descends to melodrama, it also rarely builds to any grace notes. There is one notable exception that occurs in an interaction between the protagonist and a villager, as they both bare their pasts in their respective languages and mutually recognizing the emotional register exclusively through homonyms and body language. The sparsity of such moments, however, are likely to leave the viewer ultimately unfazed.
Placed side-by-side with Chloe Zhao’s masterful “The Rider,” it becomes apparent that these women directors have a great deal more to say about the gender codes of the Western genre than their contemporary male counterparts. It was clear from Grisebach’s debut feature “Be My Star” this sensitivity is one of her strengths as a director; that film, which follows a handful of teenagers, ebbs and flows to the platonic and romantic interactions of fickle young adults. “Be My Star” privileges the female voice, but it’s clear that the filmmaker has nuanced insight into the dynamic between both genders, as well as the homosocial bonds between men.
In “Western,” not only do tensions quickly emerge amongst the workers after their isolation in Bulgaria kicks in, they also fail to recognize protective hierarchy amongst the locals. While this may seem obvious, there is something about the patriarchal graduations that Grisebach captures, attuned the social subtleties that widen the gulf separating western and eastern Europe. The approach is borderline ethnographic in its perception of gender, without playing out in an overly clinical manner.
Director of photographer Bernhard Keller has lensed all of Grisebach’s features, in addition to Ade’s “Everyone Else” and multiple works by Berlin School fixture Christoph Hochhäusler. Without taking an explicitly poetic approach, Keller’s earthy visuals ground the narrative and successfully convey the thrall that the Bulgarian countryside holds over Meinhard. “Western” is pretty, but not too pretty—essentially as good a place as anywhere for a lifelong drifter to set down roots.
In its conclusion, “Western” echoes genre urtext “The Searchers.” It’s not that Grisebach and cinematographer Keller craft a crude homage in the composition and content of the final frames of John Ford’s classic. Rather, “Western” takes up the thematic resonance of John Wayne’s Ethan Edwards, immortalized in the doorframe that separates society and the frontier. For those reading the film through a genre lens, it’s a satisfying note to end on. Don’t hold your breath waiting for an explicit statement on the contemporary themes of “Western,” however. Perhaps it is because Grisebach, like her protagonist, found herself hypnotized by the idyllic, slack pace of life in rural Bulgaria. It’s more likely, though, that the ending is not yet written. Unlike traditional Westerns that depict a historical moment. the movement of people and money in Europe remains in flux, and consequently, so does this new breed of cowboy. [B]
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