Aloys

A Swiss psychological drama; A story about a loner and private investigator whose surveillance equipment is stolen by someone who offers him the chance to break out from his self-isolation. This melancholic film is inventive, eerie, peculiar, captivating magic realism. It works a theme about escape from grief and loneliness, and addresses issues about digital surveillance and privacy. The film starts promisingly, but sags with the introduction of a weirdo-boy-meets-pretty-girl narrative and their madcap twists whereupon it focuses too much on clever technique than story spine. Nevertheless, intrigue is held across the strange characterisations and imaginative touches.

From a strange, eerie opening, featuring a continuous string of stylish visuals and ethereal music the audience is led into a semi-surreal fantasy. At first, the mysterious situations that make up the life of small time private eye, Aloys, promises to take us into some interesting psychological territory but, as the story ambles into unfathomable character involvements - the initial element of mystery simply becomes tiresome. The real becomes fused with the unreal - till it all falls over itself. That's when most viewers are likely to become restless and begin to want it all to move toward some sort of closure. Slick images and a mysterious first 25mins is simply not strong enough to hang a limp study of loneliness (or is it madness?) & then expect it to carry the weight of 90mins. As a short experimental movie it could have worked - there's simply not the legs to carry a feature. As to be expected, this overstretched work won praise from festivals but defiantly won't win many patrons. It certainly would be a hard watch to ever re-visit. Photography, mystical score, and the main performance, carry it to a degree but lack of coherence brings it down to little more than an interesting failure.

"Phone Walking", a proposed theoretical technique devised by neurologists, is the ability for two callers to concentrate on background frequencies of a conversation to visualise a shared location within their imagination. The rustling of plastic bags. Leaves blowing in the blustery winds. Underground trains speeding through subway stations. A method utilised to help disintegrate isolation from those particularly vulnerable to unsocial behaviour. For example, a private investigator whom is overburdened by melancholia due to the recent death of his father. The titular protagonist is often cold, reserved and distant from the hustle and bustle of society, plainly embracing ignorance to those who attempt to converse with him. Overridden with depression, he drinks himself unconscious, waking up to a vacuous bus smothered in bleak condensation. His possessions stolen, his robust phone begins to ring to which he is greeted by a soft female voice on the other end. Attempting to postulate whom the female entity is, he investigates several clues that lead him to the path of "Phone Walking", which inevitably changes his outlook on life itself.

Nölle's Swiss-German drama Aloys is a conceptual experimentation in exploring social behavioural traits through pseudo-science, not explicitly seen since Gondry's 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'. Whilst not nearly as romantic as the aforementioned feature, Nölle opts to focus his story on isolation. That intense confinement of loneliness that drives mental well-being into inexplicable actions, including suicide. From the offset, the sparse dialogue and distant camera shots perfectly imitate Aloys unaffectionate persona to the world. Staring at his father's coffin as it rampantly catapults into a crematorium furnace. The frustration exposed on Friedrich's face whenever an outsider asks a question. A relatable, yet problematic personality that creates a barrier of connectivity with the main character. That is until the anonymous female voice enters the fray and commenced the unique "Phone Walking" exercise, which profoundly transforms a melancholic portrait into a plethora of psychological divulgence.

Nölle audaciously alters Aloys to become a sensual experience, once this neurological method springs into action. Enabling viewers to listen out for background ambience, taste the descriptions of specific food types as these two troubled individuals imagine a party, and sensitively touch specific objects depicted through vocabulary alone. The sharp editing cuts between reality and fantasy, often depicted as a barren woodland, allow audiences to share this imaginative process with both Aloys and his female counterpart. Slowly breaking down that isolated barrier once Aloys begins to comprehend this technique. The transparent alteration in Aloys' elation whenever his "virtualised" interpretation of said female joins his imaginary self, is exquisitely portrayed by Friedrich whom acutely balances fragile mentality with vulnerable fear. Whilst Nölle's direction infers a romantic partnership, the surface-level characterisation instead implies a friendship of understanding and reinforcement, which coincidentally suits these personalities more.

Various narrative bumps do seem to be discarded swiftly, including the reasoning behind the unknown female stealing his possessions in the first place and the continuation of his current investigation. However the biggest issue is the heavy-handed metaphorical equivalence for their confinement, particularly when discussing a seal believing it is still in the Atlantic, but actually imprisoned in a zoo. Whilst perfectly acceptable analogies, their inclusion negates the subtle storytelling that Nölle had effortlessly incorporated throughout. Almost a forced last attempt at conveying the mentality of these characters, yet wholly unnecessary.

Regardless, the sheer conceptualisation of virtualisation through descriptive telephone conversations to chip away at unapproachable personalities is worth the watch in itself. To accompany that refreshing technique with solitary characterisation, despite the yearning for deeper exploration, makes Aloys a desirable phone call indeed.

Seen at the IMAGINE film festival 2017 in Amsterdam. Despite technically nothing wrong with this movie, I fail to find anything remarkable in it, no logical dramatic development, and no plot whatsoever. I assume that the film makers were so obsessed with the basic concept of mixing fantasy and reality, that they forgot to add a comprehensible and edible story. The "help" given to Aloys for breaking out of his loneliness, went past me and I cannot imagine it offering any escape nor a solid path to achieve that goal.

All in all a pity, as the first half hour is mysteriously promising. After that, the jumps between reality, fantasy and the mix between what could be true and what seems fantasy, make you soon lose interest, particularly as it has no clear effect on the psychology of main characters and their future life. I don't think Aloys will improve his quality of living, and the life and motivation of the woman is unclear to such a degree that I cannot tell what her future looks like either.

A lonely private investigator (Georg Friedrich) is contacted by a mysterious woman (Tilde von Overbeck) who pulls him into a mind game known as 'telephone walking'. Fascinated by her voice, Aloys discovers an imaginary universe that allows him to break out of his isolation.

Although Aloys is a private investigator and is expected to be listening and watching at all times, we know something is off from the very first scene: he is intently watching (and filming) his own deceased father. But then again, everyone grieves in their own special way.

This is writer-director Tobias Nölle's first feature, following his segment in the anthology film "Wonderland", and he has really created his own little universe with this one. The set design is appropriately gloomy to reflect Aloys' sullen emotions, with the only bright colors (ironically) being in the crematorium, where we watch his father's casket get unceremoniously dumped into the flames.

We are introduced to the concept of "telephone walking", an idea that was allegedly developed in Japan around 1984 by an unnamed neurologist. Is this concept real? For the sake of the film, that doesn't matter. The methods involved allow lonely folks such as Aloys to envision a passing train, or a wildly flamboyant electric organ disco party. (Yes, the latter happens, and it's the highlight of the otherwise depressing film.)

More interesting than the "telephone walking", perhaps, is how quickly Aloys and his mysterious caller find themselves in a game of cat and mouse, and she clearly has the upper hand. Writer-director Nölle has said, "We live in times where everybody wants to be seen, everybody takes pictures of themselves, everybody creates a second, more brilliant self on the web. I was interested in a man who is invisible, a private eye, who sees everything through his camera, but nobody sees him. Until the day a stranger turns the camera on him."

How life is in Switzerland, I have no idea. But the theme of surveillance is very topical in the United States, where recent headlines about NSA snooping are still fresh concerns in the minds of many. Aloys is interesting in that he represents the hidden surveillance being unmasked. But his work raises another question: what has become of the private eye in a world where everybody is surveilling themselves? If he (or the NSA) wants to know someone's innermost thoughts, they only have to log onto Facebook and scroll through hundreds or thousands of photos uploaded daily.

People like to ask before going in to the theater, "What is the movie like?" This film does not compare easily to anything else, which is high praise for the script. Critic Boyd van Hoeij notes, "Aloys, with his old-fashioned equipment, loner attitude and obsessive edges, recalls Gene Hackman's surveillance expert in Coppola's masterpiece, 'The Conversation'." That's a fair touchpoint, especially considering how often Aloys rewinds and replays his tapes. But the similarities are only superficial. There really is nothing else out there quite like "Aloys".

One fumbles to even describe the picture. It is simultaneously beautiful and depressing, uplifting and lonely, hopeful and barren. Aloys lives in a world that few would want to be in; even he would rather be somewhere else. But at least everything looks good while being swallowed into the void. Even a brief shot of an ambulance seen through a window is gloriously perfect.

"Aloys" premieres July 21, 2016 at the Fantasia Film Festival. While certainly not the fell-good movie of the year, it is definitely one of the best-looking, and may find its way on to a few Top Ten lists.