RESORT

The breakfast hall of a hotel somewhere on the Adriatic coast, four female employees in uniforms busily spread tablecloths on dining room tables. A solitary guest is to be found in the entire space: Kathrin Resetarits – who seems to plumb the depths of her own acting skills in this film – is seen eating, then lights a cigarette. She is politely informed that smoking is not permitted, despite the ashtray on the table. Outdoors, the camera follows the woman on her aimless walks, an off-season atmosphere dominates. Elsewhere, a pair combs the countryside, speculating about wall structures and possible shooting locations. Rehearsals are shot under a gray sky, without a clear concept. Casting takes place: the actress makes herself available to test an extreme close-up of her face, a profile shot from the left, from the right, with hair held back and hanging down. A woman´s voice off-screen poses two questions, whether the actress has read the screenplay – and why she would want to play the main role. The interrogated mulls the latter question a few seconds, without finding an answer before the shot cuts away.

It was entirely pointless to have made the journey, the actress says in frustration, talking on her cell phone – neither the content nor the financing of the intended film has been established. Bored and insufficiently challenged, the woman gives way to her loneliness. She waits, smokes, and absently sits outdoors or on the hotel terrace, staring out at the sea. The film ends on the dance floor of a discotheque, the face of the actress flickering in an artificial, dark-red light, gazing directly into the camera, out of breath. Director Clarissa Thieme divides her elliptical narrative, also concerned with post-Socialist architecture, into brief, unchronologically placed impressions, maintaining a distance to her métier with cool precision.
(Stefan Grissemann)

Translation: Eve Heller