THE STORY – A tragedy brings a mother, daughter, and teenage boy together. Struggling with blame and forgiveness, the unlikely trio take a trip to Tenerife for a family holiday that never happened. Under the glow of the sun, past and present quietly start to overlap.
THE CAST – Birgit Minichmayr, Tristán López, Lotte Shirin Keiling & Carla Hüttermann
THE TEAM – Sandra Wollner (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 121 Minutes
During the height of the pandemic, which left the film industry in locked-down disarray by the rapid closure of movie theatres and productions, one of the very few scandals from 2020 to emerge from the uneventful festival circuit originated from Australia. The Melbourne International Film Festival infamously put its foot down and refused to screen Sandra Wollner’s disturbing sci-fi parable “The Trouble With Being Born”. Citing safety concerns raised by two forensic psychologists who theorized that the film could potentially normalize sexual interest in children amongst adult viewers, Wollner’s audacious feature was subsequently removed from the official selection. At the time of its removal, Australian critics Peter Krausz, Tom Ryan, and David Stratton denounced the programming decision.
For those lucky enough to have seen “The Trouble of Being Born”, Wollner’s skin-crawling examination on patriarchal abuse foresaw the imminence of artificial intelligence in the context of daily living. Weaponized for sexual pleasure, Wollner examines the exploitation of artificially intelligent technology by examining the precarious relationship between a child-like android and her sexually-abusive father. Undeniably controversial for its sensitive subject-matter, Wollner’s iconoclastic feature is one of the decade’s most slept-on entries. Six years after the release and subsequent censorship of “The Trouble With Being Born”, Wollner returns to the festival circuit with a different kind of family tragedy.
Instead of looking to the near future, Wollner sets her story in the present day with her latest feature, “Everytime.” Revolving around a matriarch and her two daughters, Wollner’s narrative establishes the ordinary rituals of a happy German family. The sisters playfully feud. Melli, the youngest daughter, annoys her older sister Jessie by obnoxiously playing the family piano while her boyfriend visits for a math-tutoring session. In retaliation, Jessie records Melli drooling in her sleep. In these moments of jovial revenge, Wollner establishes the authentic connection between the two siblings. Carla Hüttermann and Lotte Keiling capture the camaraderie of sisterhood through their earnest mannerisms and convincing rapport.
Wollner’s direction subtly foreshadows her imminent tragedy through her purposeful blocking. She deliberately holds onto her frame, letting her images breathe for an extra second before cutting to the next scene. The poetic prolongation serves as narrative foreshadowing, as Wollner embraces the tranquility of the present before “Everytime” abruptly shifts narrative directions. Sustained by her inventive eye for complex oners, Wollner backs her authentic performances with creative visual direction. Filtered through its vibrant color palette, the immaculately choreographed compositions excel in their expressionistic longevity. By allowing her shots to linger deliberately, Wollner’s magnetic collaboration with cinematographer Gregory Oke produces one of the year’s most visually stunning films.
In the aftermath of family heartbreak, Wollner’s narrative evolves into a timeless story about reconnection, reconciliation, and remembrance. “Everytime” demonstrates purposeful dramatic restraint, avoiding needless melodrama in favor of pathos. Instead, Wollner implies the scope of the character’s collective guilt and grief. In one particular scene, Birgit Minichmayr’s brilliant performance holds back tears as she runs into her daughter’s former friend group by accident. Masking her pain, her performance delivers a complex look at one woman’s overpowering grief and road to forgiveness.
Avoiding the blame game completely, Wollner is ultimately more interested in the peaceful rekindling of characters who naturally reconvene. The unlikely trio secretly wrestles with the burden of Jessie’s permanent absence, as they reconnect to find closure. Wollner isn’t ashamed to insert a fart joke to break narrative tension. She perfects her tonal tight-rope between comedy and emotional devastation — at times sustained in a single harrowing shot. Wollner is also no stranger to introducing themes of technology and human connection into her compact narratives. With “Everytime”, the film’s delightful electronic soundtrack mixes gentle lullaby melodies with abstract tones. David Schweighart’s synthetic score accompanies the characters on their journey towards self-actualization, becoming increasingly melodic in scenes of mutual understanding and acceptance.
However, despite its soundscape directly reflecting upon the film’s incorporation of digital technology, Wollner doesn’t delve deep enough into the subject. Whereas the screencapture of Minecraft gameplay footage reveals more about the younger sibling’s processing of grief, using the hit Mojang game as a form of personal escape, “Everytime” largely sidelines its technological explorations at a vague distance. Incorporation of social media could have unveiled more about Jessie’s mental state without the need for exposition, creating a more multifaceted and layered character before the moment of her sudden death. In its current state, Wollner’s absence of social media in a film largely about the daily lives of teenagers in the 21st century is a bewildering scripted choice.
Once the enigmatic third act rolls in, Wollner embraces the mysteries and miracles of life itself. Nostalgia physically manifests as the expressionistic finale bends the characters’ perceptions of space and time. Wollner flirts with rewarding, albeit convenient, magical realism, diving into the liminality of memory. In the process, the film’s somber finale ultimately embraces the unknown. Akin to the family’s acceptance of their sibling’s sudden death, they learn to find peace in the beauty and strangeness of their collective reconciliation. Simultaneously slow-moving and absorbing, “Everytime” is a luminous, life-affirming cinematic voyage perfected by its accomplished camera choreography and patient storytelling.
