Animal, light, naked in the scenery of industrial Greece Twenty-three-year-old Marina has never kissed. She has a best friend with a wealth of sexual experience and a father dying of cancer. Marina loves Sir Attenborough's animal programs and sometimes all three imitate the fauna.
It sounds like a synopsis of very strange and too daring porn. No, this is not porn, but only the second film by Athena Rachel Tsangari (almost nothing is known about the first). He is curious by a leisurely, measured production, playing at the junction of performative and household. You need to get used from the very first shot to the provocative, but very organic about the framework of the plan style of the director: all three main characters behave a little strange, I would say – like children, although they discuss very adult topics. What else to do in this quiet area?
Sex and death, tactileness and oblivion, freedom and silence - the contrasts that prevail in Attenberg, echo both in Marina and in her environment. The girl learns life, the nature of the internal (through the minimal capabilities of her body as sexual and near-sexual experiences arise) and the external (in programs about animals, in communication with people). The girl grows up, opens up for herself, decides on some actions that are not characteristic of hardened virgins. Finally, the girl learns loss – and this is the extreme line, after which you will definitely not be the same. A calm, almost conflict-free drama of growing up.
The film is simple and clear, devoid of a rich narrative, built on the palette of sensations. Tsangari works at the junction of human and animal, dressing his findings in a comic form of childish pampering with notes of not at all childish eroticism. In one shot, the heroines can spit out of the window, in another – go under the handle and talk about the trees with members, in the third Marina “cuts” with her father in a lexical game, turning the dialogue into a theatrical and performative action. Somewhere in between, there are episodes of riding a motorcycle, a battle of figurines in table football, a flying tennis ball, ringing guitar strings and simply a non-binding existence. Scenes of a purely plastic nature are also expressive (mostly those where the imitation of animals is based). All this together makes a canvas unusual, quiet, sometimes sleepy, but alive, pulsating, rhythmic.
"Attenberg" speaks of simple things in a language as simple but inventive and tangible, traces of which can remain on the skin, lips, behind the ears, in the bend of the elbows, on the boundary of the solar plexus - as if with this film you learned the first kiss, but went a little further. And when the charm ceased to be a novelty, dared to stop. That's how it happens. Just stopped. But the skin remembers, and the lips remember, and the air is charged with the same memory.
7 out of 10