Anja Plaschg

It’s not uncommon for a film to have a moving love story at its core. Yet this particular set-up is unusual. The lovers here are Ingeborg Bachmann and Paul Celan, both important representatives of post-war German-language poetry. The story of the relationship between the Austrian and the Jew from Czernowitz is told through their nearly 20-year correspondence (1948–1967). Or, more precisely, by a young woman and a young man reading from their letters in a studio in Vienna’s venerable Funkhaus.

In 1750 Austria, a deeply religious woman named Agnes has just married her beloved, but her mind and heart soon grow heavy as her life becomes a long list of chores and expectations. Day after day, she is increasingly trapped in a murky and lonely path leading to evil thoughts, until the possibility of committing a shocking act of violence seems like the only way out of her inner prison.

Mifti is a teenager as beautiful as she is reckless. Mentally unstable, fed up with her dysfunctional family, oblivious to the youthful world, and aware of the sexual magnetism she gives off with her peculiar appearance, she wanders through the dark path of several bohemian adults with questionable lifestyles.

An unexpected letter forces siblings Bernhard and Lydia to confront each other and to deal with their family history.