Hundstage is an intentionally ugly and unnerving study of life in a particularly dreary suburb of Vienna. It comes from former documentary director Ulrich Seidl who adopts a very documentary-like approach to the material. However, the film veers away from normal types and presents us with characters that are best described as "extremes" some are extremely lonely; some extremely violent; some extremely weird; some extremely devious; some extremely frustrated and misunderstood; and so on. The film combines several near plot less episodes which intertwine from time to time, each following the characters over a couple of days during a sweltering Viennese summer. Very few viewers will come away from the film feeling entertained the intention is to point up the many things that are wrong with people, the many ills that plague our society in general. It is a thought-provoking film and its conclusions are pretty damning on the whole.
A fussy old widower fantasises about his elderly cleaning lady and wants her to perform a striptease for him while wearing his deceased wife's clothes. A nightclub dancer contends with the perpetually jealous and violent behaviour of her boy-racer boyfriend. A couple grieving over their dead daughter can no longer communicate with each other and seek solace by having sex with other people. An abusive man mistreats his woman but she forgives him time and again. A security salesman desperately tries to find the culprit behind some vandalism on a work site but ends up picking on an innocent scapegoat. And a mentally ill woman keeps hitching rides with strangers and insulting them until they throw her out of the car! The lives of these disparate characters converge over several days during an intense summer heat wave.
The despair in the film is palpable. Many scenes are characterised by long, awkward silences that are twice as effective as a whole passage of dialogue might be. Then there are other scenes during which the dialogue and on-screen events leave you reeling. In particular, a scene during which the security salesman leaves the female hitch-hiker to the mercy of a vengeful guy - to be beaten, raped and humiliated (thankfully all off-screen) for some vandalism she didn't even do - arouses a sour, almost angry taste. In another scene a man has a lit candle wedged in his rear-end and is forced to sing the national anthem at gunpoint, all as part of his punishment for being nasty to his wife. While we might want to cheer that this thug is receiving his come-uppance, we are simultaneously left appalled and unnerved by the nature of his punishment. Indeed, such stark contrasts could act as a summary of the whole film - every moment of light-heartedness is counter-balanced with a moment of coldness. Every shred of hope is countered with a sense of despair. For every character you could like or feel sympathy for, there is another that encourages nothing but anger and hate. We might want to turn away from Hundstage, to dismiss it as an exercise in misery, but it also points up some uncomfortable truths and for that it should be applauded.
A fussy old widower fantasises about his elderly cleaning lady and wants her to perform a striptease for him while wearing his deceased wife's clothes. A nightclub dancer contends with the perpetually jealous and violent behaviour of her boy-racer boyfriend. A couple grieving over their dead daughter can no longer communicate with each other and seek solace by having sex with other people. An abusive man mistreats his woman but she forgives him time and again. A security salesman desperately tries to find the culprit behind some vandalism on a work site but ends up picking on an innocent scapegoat. And a mentally ill woman keeps hitching rides with strangers and insulting them until they throw her out of the car! The lives of these disparate characters converge over several days during an intense summer heat wave.
The despair in the film is palpable. Many scenes are characterised by long, awkward silences that are twice as effective as a whole passage of dialogue might be. Then there are other scenes during which the dialogue and on-screen events leave you reeling. In particular, a scene during which the security salesman leaves the female hitch-hiker to the mercy of a vengeful guy - to be beaten, raped and humiliated (thankfully all off-screen) for some vandalism she didn't even do - arouses a sour, almost angry taste. In another scene a man has a lit candle wedged in his rear-end and is forced to sing the national anthem at gunpoint, all as part of his punishment for being nasty to his wife. While we might want to cheer that this thug is receiving his come-uppance, we are simultaneously left appalled and unnerved by the nature of his punishment. Indeed, such stark contrasts could act as a summary of the whole film - every moment of light-heartedness is counter-balanced with a moment of coldness. Every shred of hope is countered with a sense of despair. For every character you could like or feel sympathy for, there is another that encourages nothing but anger and hate. We might want to turn away from Hundstage, to dismiss it as an exercise in misery, but it also points up some uncomfortable truths and for that it should be applauded.