
East Berlin blocks and night trams. Records the room before she writes.
Director, Writer, Editor
One circuit of the ring line in real time, with eleven passengers and one camera.
Playing before the Segla Studio open call in London.
Hannah Weiss-Lindqvist grew up in Hellersdorf, in one of the two blocks her mother has looked after as caretaker since 1996, and studied sound engineering rather than film. She spent four years mixing for a documentary house in Kreuzberg, where she learned that most of a scene is decided in the mix, and she still cuts her own sound. Plattenbau Sommer was shot in her mother's blocks with the tenants' permission, in the flats that were genuinely empty. The Last Tram to Marzahn was made with the transit authority's cooperation over nineteen nights after service, on the real line, in a driver's cab that had to be handed back by four in the morning. She works with the editor Jonas Ehlert and the producer Milena Fuchs, and she does not write dialogue until she has recorded the room it will be spoken in.
The people they keep working with.
Seventy nine minutes, most of it on public transport, and it earns its length by never letting the two of them get comfortable. The conversation about her brother is the best written scene I have heard this month, and the film has the sense to shoot it from outside the window with the sound slightly off. My one complaint is the last five minutes, which explain something I was happier not knowing.
I have been waiting for this since her short and it is better than I hoped. Two people on a tram at night is not a premise, it is a dare. What makes it work is that the film never lights the interior for the actors. It lights it like a tram. Everything else follows from that one decision.
Concrete is very hard to make look warm and this manages it by grading toward yellow instead of the usual grey green. Skin against a grey wall at golden hour is a genuine test and it holds up. Small thing, but the interiors match the exteriors, which almost never happens on a short.
Nineteen minutes in a housing block in the last week of school and it refuses to be miserable about it. The kids have a good summer. That is the radical part. There is a long take on the balcony walkway, maybe ninety seconds, where the camera just follows a kid running the whole length of the building, and I keep going back for those ninety seconds alone.