A summer house nestled on the north coast of Germany is the destination of Leon (Schubert) and his friend Felix (Uibel), but car trouble forces them to complete the last few miles through the forest on foot. And if this beginning isn’t inauspicious enough, they arrive at the house (owned by Felix’s family) to discover unmistakable signs of occupancy. Nadja (Beer), the niece of a family friend, is staying there as well, but not to worry, Felix assures Leon, there’s plenty of room. And physically that’s true, although the two must now share a room: Whether there’s room for anyone else’s ego besides Leon’s extremely fragile one is another story. Well, really it’s this story.
Leon’s a writer struggling with his second novel, and his time at the house is earmarked for revisions before a meeting with his publisher later in the week. Perpetually put upon and easily exasperated, Leon is a cocktail of arrogance and insecurity, able to enter a room full of fun and laughter and immediately begin sulking. He’s a haughty child, or as previously noted, a writer. How he became friends with Felix, a generous and affable pure heart who’s spending his time at the beach working on a photography project for his art school portfolio, is actually another story, for no clues are given here, other than Felix’s amiability bringing Leon’s stick-in-the-mud attitude into stark relief. To Leon, Nadja’s presence is just one more burden to bear, although that doesn’t stop him from snooping around her room while she’s selling ice cream to tourists on the beach. As Leon agonizes over a manuscript he’s not entirely sure about, Nadja, then Felix, befriends local lifeguard Devid (Trebs), and for a time Afire settles into an enjoyable social satire, an ironic and funny inquiry into the nature of human passion. It’s a bit like an Éric Rohmer story.
But this is undoubtedly a Christian Petzold story, who just happens to be one of the most consistently compelling directors working, whose impressive body of work (Phoenix, Undine, Transit) is suffused with a sure-footed melodrama that elevates his films to new heights of poignancy. Afire is no exception, an oft mentioned wildfire raging nearby being just one of the Chekov’s guns laying around. Buoyed by pitch-perfect performances from the cast (Schubert especially nails the insufferably delicate masculinity of Leon), the film balances its humor and pathos with a natural ease, ending with a satisfying conclusion. All qualities of any good story.
This article appears in July 28 • 2023.