THE STORY – After 14 years on the mainland, Hein returns to the place he is from – the only village on a remote island in the North Sea. Much to his surprise, the close-knit community no longer recognises him. Even his childhood friend Friedemann distances himself from Hein, despite their once unbreakable bond. The community convenes a village court to determine whether Hein truly is who he claims to be. As the trial unfolds, contradictions begin to pile up. Hein’s recollections of his youth sharply differ from those of the witnesses called before the court. With each day of the trial, the mood in the village increasingly shifts from suspicion to open hostility as the villagers become more and more convinced that Hein is an impostor. On the verge of losing everything, Hein desperately searches for proof to validate his memories – only to realise what he has long refused to see.
THE CAST – Paul Boche, Philip Froissant, Emilia Schüle & Stephanie Amarell
THE TEAM – Kai Stänicke (Director/Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 122 Minutes
Writer-director Kai Stänicke’s debut feature film, “Trial Of Hein,” (Or “Der Heimatlose”) is an overlong, theatrical staging of a village trial. The film constantly makes the audience question reality, as everyone in the village is either lying, in denial, or, upon his return, simply cannot remember the titular Hein. Stänicke explores ideas of belonging and identity, set in a cult-like village where everyone seems to be in tune, often unanimously agreeing, as no one wants to be the outlier. Hein’s return is clearly the biggest thing to happen in over fourteen years, and the villagers milk his return as a sort of twisted entertainment.
The North Sea’s waves crash as Hein (Paul Boche) floats home on a boat from the mainland, presumably Germany. His hometown island is a secluded place where the villagers never leave, having found a way to sustain themselves for generations in the North Sea. The sea acts as a boundary, a no-go zone for the villagers as they live out their isolated lives together as a unit with no interest in the outside world. The concept of Hein leaving all those many years ago is perplexing to most of his friends and family, as they see no reason why one should leave their mini paradise. But for Hein, leaving was necessary to find his true identity and unshackle himself from the restrictions of his community.
As he arrives on the island, Hein walks into his village and greets old familiar faces. Everyone is shocked at the sight of him. He is not warmly greeted; he is treated as an outsider. They wonder if he is here for nefarious reasons, to upset the balance and peace they claim to have. Not even Hein’s mother and little sister recognize him, with his mother stating that he is Hein, but not the one who left all those years ago. To find out the truth, the village leaders set a trial to determine whether Hein is who he says he is.
The first thing that jumps out to the audience is the fourth-wall-breaking set design, as Hein’s village is made of flats, wooden walls that are easily movable and used on almost every set built in filmmaking. Every building is exposed to the elements, with no roofing or back walls, and lit by natural sunlight. The film makes no effort to hide the wooden flats; instead, it showcases them to emphasize the facade of everything. It is an interesting choice that ultimately makes its point clear but adds to the film’s fakery. It is hard to buy into everything fully.
That said, Stänicke is committed to exposing the villagers’ deceptive actions, and using a fake village adds to the story’s theatrical nature. The performances feel stale and unbelievable for the most part, and the audience laughs at many points because of the ridiculous nature of the lies on show. Paul Boche’s leading performance as Hein is restrained to very little in the way of words; almost everything he does is conveyed through subtle actions and eye movements. Normally, this style of introspective acting is effective, but here the audience is left cold, desperately clinging to anything, as Hein’s personality is barely shown.
Flashbacks offer a brief insight into Hein’s past on the island, revealing distorted perspectives on his memories. Hein is forced to question his memories as those around him gaslight him and themselves into believing their lies. It is all a bit of a mess, yet a concisely controlled one. Stänicke clearly has talent, but the contrived nature of his debut feature feels forced and, for the most part, almost too introspective. Hein slowly realizes why he left the island and never returned. He wanted to escape the shackles of such a contained society, and in the outside world, he is free to be himself. This point is ultimately spelled out quite obviously and takes far too long to conclude. The runtime drags on, with everything becoming very repetitive, as many days of the trial end similarly.
The camera often feels intrusive, as “Trial Of Hein” would probably work better as a stage play. It is almost like a stage play that has been filmed. It is shot in an observational style, with the camera following Hein as he enters the town, steps up to the court stand, or approaches the facade of his mother’s house. Visually, the film is shot well, with natural or motivated light filling the frame, but it becomes a bit stilted as the story becomes increasingly staged. The emptiness of the missing walls in the courtroom serves what Stänicke is trying to say, but overall, it lacks believability.
Most of the film is filled with silence, ambient noise, and an occasional bit of music to piece the film together. It is never fully engrossing and becomes quite tiresome and boring as the film drags on. There is a strand in the narrative that is very important but is only subtly hinted at for a long time. Hein’s revelations by the end are less impactful, as the story is so focused on the trial’s theatrical staging that it forgets to highlight his feeling different, with the queer angle fully unveiled. If this had been revealed earlier in the film, understanding Hein and why he left would have worked far better as he escapes the scrutiny of his cult-like upbringing.
Stänicke’s debut lacks intrigue in its “Midsommar”-like setting, but it fails to capture the most interesting parts of Hein’s story. The film is too distracted with its theatrical facade and theatre-like performances to allow breathing room for something more profound to take place. It is a good start for Stänicke as a director, but there is much to learn from his first film.
