Austrian auteur Sandra Wollner drops a profound cinematic experience with ‘Everytime’, a ‘slow burn’ exploration into the depths of human loss that truly hits different. This isn’t your typical Hollywood tear-jerker; instead, it’s a meticulously crafted ‘Grief Drama’ that dares to challenge conventional storytelling by taking its sweet time to unfurl, leaving audiences contemplating long after the credits roll. Wollner, known for her prior mind-bender ‘The Trouble With Being Born’ involving a child robot, brings a similar unsettlingly serene aesthetic to this new work, inviting viewers into a world where reality and coping mechanisms blur.
The film distinguishes itself through its audacious narrative structure, opting for a dramatically diffuse approach rather than a straightforward plot. This means viewers are encouraged to immerse themselves in the characters’ emotional landscapes, observing the nuanced ways individuals grapple with an unimaginable tragedy. It’s a testament to independent cinema’s power to delve into complex psychological states without spoon-feeding explanations, allowing the subtle shifts in behavior and atmosphere to speak volumes. For real, this movie lowkey demands your full attention, rewarding patience with profound insights into the grieving process.
What’s truly fascinating is how ‘Everytime’ employs the ‘Berliner Schule’ aesthetic, a style known for its rigorous realism and often minimalist direction, to amplify the emotional weight. This approach strips away melodrama, presenting raw, unvarnished human reactions to loss. It’s on point in its depiction of how grief isn’t a linear journey but a series of disjointed moments, ellipses, and lingering echoes that permeate daily life, making even mundane activities feel heavy with unspoken sorrow. The deliberate pacing allows for a deeper connection to the characters’ internal struggles, making their pain almost palpable.
Beyond its studied portrayal of grief, the film subtly introduces elements of the uncanny and the technological, hinting at a world where memory and perception can be manipulated or enhanced. This is where Wollner’s talent for injecting unease truly shines. The suggestion of virtual reality or a ‘Minecraft-style game’ isn’t just a quirky detail; it becomes a critical lens through which we might understand the characters’ attempts to reconstruct or escape their painful reality. It’s a clever way to explore how modern coping mechanisms might intersect with our oldest human struggles.
‘Everytime’ challenges us to rethink what constitutes a ‘resolution’ in a story about loss. Its giant twist, arriving in the third act, might feel like too much, too late for some, but for others, it’s a powerful, almost desperate act of imagination in the face of unbearable pain. The film posits a solution to grief that feels almost fantastical, suggesting that sometimes, to survive, people might abandon logic for belief in the unbelievable. It’s a bold artistic choice that ultimately gives meaning and mystery to a family’s struggle to move on.
Ultimately, Sandra Wollner’s ‘Everytime’ is a compelling, albeit demanding, cinematic experience. It might not serve up ‘cake with icing and sprinkles’ as Hitchcock famously desired, but it offers a rich, thought-provoking ‘slice of life’ that’s both unsettling and deeply moving. It’s a powerful reminder that sometimes the most impactful stories are those that dare to be different, pushing boundaries and leaving us to ponder their complexities long after the screen goes dark. This flick is legit a must-see for anyone into unconventional storytelling.
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Livia Dorne covers film, television, music, and pop culture with a keen editorial perspective. She delivers engaging commentary, reviews, and behind-the-scenes insights that keep readers connected to the entertainment world. Her style blends critique with storytelling.
