Western

The title instantly poses associations with the well-trodden genre: where are Western’s figurative cowboys and Indians? Do we find a civilization lurching uncomfortably into modern times? Is there frontier justice, a sense of a moral code being written spontaneously in blood and sweat and dust? All of these things might be detected in Western, but it soon becomes apparent that the deeper meaning of the title is geopolitical. In a tiny Bulgarian village, perched on the border between the “West” of Europe and the “East” of Turkey (and, across the Black Sea, Russia), notions of nationalism, wealth, and masculinity are ready to combust. 

These tensions are embodied by the arrival of a German construction crew, tasked with building a water pump in the village. A paragon of machismo, with each member of the group enacting his own preconceived notion of what it means to be a man, the crew arrives in Bulgaria and promptly plants a German flag on their camp. There are shades and subtleties among these male characters: the cocky, boorish Vincent (Reinhardt Vetrek); the Russian Boris (Waldemar Zang), acutely aware of the hostility between the two groups; our protagonist Meinhard (Meinhard Neumann), who espouses peace and understanding but clearly suffers from his own demons. A few scenes observe violent conflict as it comes to a head, but for the most part the animosity is pervasive if restrained; much of the film's suspense consists of waiting for calamity to strike, ready to erupt within these men at the slightest provocation.
 
The animus between the Germans and the Bulgarians is multifaceted. There is a sense of economic inequality between them: the gainfully employed crewmen taking over a community that seems to consist mostly of farmers, idlers, and self-styled gangsters. The Bulgarians control the water supply, distributing a scant amount of water between several villages and the construction site (depriving them occasionally of drinking water); but the Germans possess a supply of gravel sorely needed by the villagers. Of course, there is also a longstanding political hostility between them, dating back to Bulgaria’s occupation by Nazi forces during World War II; and while the movie never makes a didactic point of referencing ongoing crisis in the nearby Middle East, it’s also impossible to ignore, given repeated allusions to Meinhard’s possible past experiences in Afghanistan and Iraq. (A former Legionnaire, Meinhard’s past is a topic of much gossip among the Bulgarians, who speculate about how many people he’s killed.)

Both of these tribes are conditioned to dislike each other, taught by their societies (the movie suggests) to embrace cultural pride and vilify “the other.” But Meinhard—perhaps disillusioned by the atrocities he’s witnessed in his past, whatever they are—dismisses such xenophobia, preferring to spend time with the villagers instead of his German compatriots. He quickly befriends a farmer named Adrian (Syuleyman Alilov Letifov), forming a brotherly bond symbolized by the white horse that Adrian allows Meinhard to ride; the horse becomes a major plot device, a symbol for understanding that transcends cultural boundaries.
 
These character types sound like (and occasionally play as) broad personas: the callous brute, the strong and silent sufferer, the young Bulgarian who exudes innocence. But the nonprofessional cast gives tremendous depth and believability to the characters, suggesting fully lived identities even if their backstories remain mostly unknown. The film’s most poignant scene observes a late-night, drunken conversation between Meinhard and Adrian, who discuss their traumas, their miseries, their perspectives on life all without speaking a single word of the same language.
 
Writer-director Valeska Grisebach at times emulates Claire Denis’ Beau travail: that film and Western share an intense analysis of a homosocial group, themes of cultural identity and miscommunication, and even a climactic dance scene that may or may not spell redemption. But unlike Denis’ dreamy, hyperreal film, Grisebach’s remains resolutely naturalistic, unavoidably suggesting the word “gritty.” But in that verisimilitude, Grisebach is able to find notes of grace and intimacy; these characters have been primed to hate one another, but a human understanding that transcends social boundaries is not out of the question. 

Western

Grade: B+

Runtime: 121m.
Countries: Germany/ Bulgaria/Austria
Premiere: February 16, 2017 (New York Film Festival)
US Release: February 16, 2018

Director: Valeska Grisebach
Producer: Maren Ade, Jonas Dornbach, Valeska Grisebach, Janine Jackowski, Michel Merkt
Writer: Valeska Grisebach
Cinematography: Bernhard Keller
Editor: Bettina Böhler
Cast: Meinhard Neumann, Reinhardt Wetrek, Syuleyman Alilov Letifov, Veneta Fragnova, Vyara Borisova, Kevin Bashev, Aliosman Deliev, Momchil Sinanov, Robert Gawellek, Jens Klein, Waldemar Zang, Detlef Schaich, Sascha Diener, Enrico Mantei, Gulzet Zyulfov, Kostadin Kerenchev, Katerina Dermendzhieva