One film which remains both
under the radar outside of dedicated world cinema circles and unreleased
outside of West Germany is the Bavarian Award winning 1989 clandestine and
subtly creepy child-horror fairy tale film Laurin
which only until recently was available in faded and dark European DVD
transfers. Thanks to the efforts of Bildstörung who have given the overlooked
gem a 2K digital restoration, this rarely seen 19th century Bavarian
set crossbreed between F.W. Murnau, Peter Weir, Jaromil Jireš, Dario Argento and even a hint of
Lucio Fulci is now available to be rediscovered by adventurous cinephiles
around the world over!
Part dreamy coming-of-age fairy tale ala Picnic at Hanging Rock and Valerie
and Her Week of Wonders, part serial child murder thriller ala Fulci’s Don’t Torture a Duckling, the directorial
debut of Robert Sigl tells the story of the titular nine-year-old little girl (played
by Dora Szinetar) living with her parents and grandmother in a quiet Bavarian
harbor. Little Laurin, in the wake of her mother’s untimely death as her Sailor
father leaves her in the care of her crippled and drunk grandmother, finds
herself plagued by increasingly surreal and haunting visions of a well-dressed
man suited in black, a threatening black dog and an archaic crumbling
castle. Rapidly the film plunges the
viewer into Laurin’s psyche as she
tries to understand her strange premonitions as fellow friends and classmates begin
to vanish without a trace .
Save for some momentary scenes of violence, Laurin moves at a methodically slow and quiet pace, rarely breaking
out into shrieks except when necessary. Where
other thrillers tend towards loud jump scares or fast paced chase sequences, Laurin deliberately takes it’s time to
allow for the rich and often spooky turn-of-the-century gothic atmosphere to
soak in a mood of murky unease. Though
this period horror thriller doesn’t erupt into overt scares, the overall mood
the film’s creepy atmosphere leaves the viewer with is harder to shake than
most conventional thrillers. Aided by a
soft electronic score by Hans Jansen and Jacques Zwart which tend to date the
film somewhat coupled with scenic cinematography of the Bavarian countryside by
Nyika Jancso, Laurin proves to be a
sumptuous costumed thriller touching on adolescent fears of budding sexuality,
stranger dangers, the gulf between faith vs. superstition and the loosely
hanging thread of an unfinished business ghost story.
Laurin may be underwhelming when compared to the films it bears
the most in common with, lacking the mysterious punch of Weir’s undisputed
classic and eventually boiling down to familiar genre conventions in the third
act. But as a slice of European period
horror which intentionally flirts with the supernatural, the clairvoyant and
the premonitory without explicitly declaring any of the notions to be true, Laurin is a nice and oddly affecting
little historically set number which won’t break the mold but will leave you
with an unsettled feeling gothic horror films rarely strive for anymore.
Score:
- Andrew Kotwicki