How green was my GARDEN

The past is indeed a foreign country.

This means it is often filmed as such,

with an eye for the exotic otherness

that makes it an alien zone.

But Sonja Kröner made with THE GARDEN

a quietly assured, gentle tragic comedy.

An scented film

that delivers the portrait of a bourgeois German family’s 1970s summer

that feels deliciously and authentically as present-tense.

All images here are so piercingly accurate

that they feel like real memories.

A foot stepping out of the loop of a garden...

a rim of grime under a fingernail...

are somehow delivered without fetishization or nostalgia.

The cumulative effect is to make “The Garden” feel like an auspiciously evocative debut,

even if it delivers more on atmosphere

than on fully nourished story.

 Chintzy patterns,

vintage cars,

and space hoppers

are all present and correct in Sonja Maria Kröner’s ode

to the languorous West German summers.

It generates a mood of easy, lived-in authenticity.

The Garden assembles three generations

of an affluent family

at their beloved summer bungalow,

following the death of the grandmother.

Discussions about the future of one of the garden plots sow tensions.

The children squabble over the treehouse,

and try to kill as many wasps as possible...

...and the news that a local girl

has been kidnapped

imbues the bungalow next door

with a sense of danger.

The only thread that somewhat

raises the pulse revolves around one aunt’s

repressed lesbian longings.

In the background,

there’s a buzz of foggy unease.

The radio burbles that story of the missing child... 

the newspapers print salacious details

of the crime

for the old ladies to tut about over tea... 

wasps keep multiplying;

and,

like all good childhood vacation spots,

there’s  the mysterious “artist”
who lives just over the fence,

whose art betrays an interest in doll mutilation...

The family relationships
are not drawn especially clearly,

but that adds to “The Garden’s” choral,

lazy-days feel.

This is family in the most recognizable

and honest sense.

People  take each other for granted and nurse favoritism. 

That is an indolent, hot summer.

Nothing and everything happens.

A tree falls...

plants get watered...

a birthday is celebrated...

kids are lost, found and grounded...

one of the older generation is politely asked

to stop sunbathing nude...

Ilse the old aunt

seems on the verge of a tentative

of same-sex romance,

but is made to feel ridiculous

for wearing lipstick to lunch.

The children bounce around on Hoppity Hops, venture

into the forbidden territory

beyond the fence...

and sing a childishly racist song

that refers to child murder and cannibalism...

The images are rich,

in a precisely calibrated palette.

The framing from DOP Julia Daschner

sometimes sacrifices discipline for immediacy.

But more often it picks out

nicely observed moments of humdrum activity,

like making a bed with blankets

rather than a duvet,

or briskly cleaning one’s nails

with a nail brush.

The locations, interiors and costuming

are terrific,

with every corner of this contained,

microcosmic world

feeling authentic to its 1970s German setting.

And, perhaps most impressive of all

for a neophyte director,

Kröner gets natural,

unselfconscious performances

from every member of her big,

generations-spanning ensemble,

playing a family

who may be nothing like your own,

but who will remind you

of them

anyway.

By Giulia Ghica Dobre

Production: (Germany) A Prokino Filmverleih presentation of a Walker + Worm Film production, in co-production with Bayerischer Rundfunk and Westdeutscher Rundfunk.

Producers: Philipp Worm, Tobias Walker.

Crew: Director, screenplay: Sonja Maria Kröner. Camera (color): Julia Daschner. Editor: Ulrike Tortora.

With:

Thomas Loibl, Laura Tonke, Ursula Werner, Mavie Hörbiger, Günther Maria Halmer, Christine Schorn. (German dialogue)