Omeleto | MYOSOTIS | Omeleto @Omeleto | Uploaded January 2024 | Updated October 2024, 2 hours ago.
Two officials try to convince a woman to move.
MYOSOTIS is used with permission from Michael Schwendinger. Learn more at https://michaelschwendinger.com.
Two state officials, Pfister and Meier, are headed out to a remote rural valley to see an elderly woman, Marie Schlatter. Widowed, she lives and works alone on her humble property. The two government officials want to convince Maris to agree to move: they will pay to buy her land at a generous price and help relocate her and the rest of her community, but they want to move so they can build a dam.
But Marie is not as docile as they'd hope. She doesn't want to move. Her home is where she lived with her husband, and all her memories of her life with her late husband are bound up in her "little hut." But with the government determined to build the dam, Marie must reconcile herself to the future, all while saying goodbye to the past.
Directed and written by Michael Schwendinger, this moody, layered short drama captures the plight of a farmer facing down the inexorable march of modernity, as the demands of development trample on older, slower and more nature-based ways of life. But it's also a more intimate portrait of a woman who must say goodbye to her past, and perhaps the remains of her grief, and move into the future.
The film's most immediately striking aspect is its visuals, which both emphasize the beauty of the valley where Marie lives. Wide natural vistas, clouds rolling on the tops of hills, and verdant gatherings of trees are all beautifully captured in stunningly exacting cinematography. But they're not just scenery. The images' stunning beauty emphasizes what will be lost by the dam, and also the land that Marie, her husband and her ancestors have devoted their lives to working, loving and building their homes upon. The writing is elegantly sparse and the storytelling is paced to emphasize the lyricism of its emotions and theme, but the images are profoundly eloquent.
As the officials apply more pressure on Marie to move, she digs her heels in more, becoming more recalcitrant and stubborn in her refusal. But it also brings up a flood of emotions and memories, particularly of her past life with her husband. Actor Lilian Naef has an innate, formidable air of toughness and strength that befits a farmer accustomed to a proudly hard-scrabble existence. But she was also a wife in a loving marriage, with an adored husband that she made a home and life with. And she must call on the comfort of her memories when she resigns herself to her fate.
Thoughtful, beautiful and resonant, MYOSOTIS -- the scientific name for a forget-me-not flower -- is an elegy to a way of life that is being buried by the demands of modernity and to a home that has housed many happy, loving memories, rendered in a golden glow that contrasts with the rest of the film's melancholy, overcast atmosphere. It's also wise to the way we carry our loved ones within us, even after they're gone, though it's hard and bittersweet to leave the things that remind us of them. Marie seems resigned to what will happen, though whether she will leave or be torn from her home forcibly is unclear. She ends the film in the cradle of her memories of love and home, finding consolation in them even as their most palpable expression will soon be gone.
Two officials try to convince a woman to move.
MYOSOTIS is used with permission from Michael Schwendinger. Learn more at https://michaelschwendinger.com.
Two state officials, Pfister and Meier, are headed out to a remote rural valley to see an elderly woman, Marie Schlatter. Widowed, she lives and works alone on her humble property. The two government officials want to convince Maris to agree to move: they will pay to buy her land at a generous price and help relocate her and the rest of her community, but they want to move so they can build a dam.
But Marie is not as docile as they'd hope. She doesn't want to move. Her home is where she lived with her husband, and all her memories of her life with her late husband are bound up in her "little hut." But with the government determined to build the dam, Marie must reconcile herself to the future, all while saying goodbye to the past.
Directed and written by Michael Schwendinger, this moody, layered short drama captures the plight of a farmer facing down the inexorable march of modernity, as the demands of development trample on older, slower and more nature-based ways of life. But it's also a more intimate portrait of a woman who must say goodbye to her past, and perhaps the remains of her grief, and move into the future.
The film's most immediately striking aspect is its visuals, which both emphasize the beauty of the valley where Marie lives. Wide natural vistas, clouds rolling on the tops of hills, and verdant gatherings of trees are all beautifully captured in stunningly exacting cinematography. But they're not just scenery. The images' stunning beauty emphasizes what will be lost by the dam, and also the land that Marie, her husband and her ancestors have devoted their lives to working, loving and building their homes upon. The writing is elegantly sparse and the storytelling is paced to emphasize the lyricism of its emotions and theme, but the images are profoundly eloquent.
As the officials apply more pressure on Marie to move, she digs her heels in more, becoming more recalcitrant and stubborn in her refusal. But it also brings up a flood of emotions and memories, particularly of her past life with her husband. Actor Lilian Naef has an innate, formidable air of toughness and strength that befits a farmer accustomed to a proudly hard-scrabble existence. But she was also a wife in a loving marriage, with an adored husband that she made a home and life with. And she must call on the comfort of her memories when she resigns herself to her fate.
Thoughtful, beautiful and resonant, MYOSOTIS -- the scientific name for a forget-me-not flower -- is an elegy to a way of life that is being buried by the demands of modernity and to a home that has housed many happy, loving memories, rendered in a golden glow that contrasts with the rest of the film's melancholy, overcast atmosphere. It's also wise to the way we carry our loved ones within us, even after they're gone, though it's hard and bittersweet to leave the things that remind us of them. Marie seems resigned to what will happen, though whether she will leave or be torn from her home forcibly is unclear. She ends the film in the cradle of her memories of love and home, finding consolation in them even as their most palpable expression will soon be gone.
