This felt like someone had taken a haunted farmhouse, a family curse, a history textbook and a fever dream, then chucked them in a blender and somehow made it work. Sound of Falling jumps across four time periods in the same German farmstead, with trauma, guilt and repression seeping through the walls like damp. It’s one of those films where every image feels loaded, even when you’re not fully sure what it’s loading.
What really got me was the atmosphere. The drifting camera, the groaning soundtrack, the sense that something awful happened here and never really stopped happening. It reminded me a bit of Mark Jenkin, not visually in a direct way, but in how it feels handmade, eerie and tuned into memory, place and unease. Some of it is opaque, fair warning, but I found it properly unnerving rather than just wilfully obscure.
When it finished, the man behind me leaned over and said, “Well that was weird.” Fair enough, really.