Sound of Falling (dir. Mascha Schilinski)

by Jack Martin | Mar 6, 2026

Certificate: 18

Running Time: 149 mins

UK Distributor: MUBI

UK Release Date: 6 March 2026

WHO’S IN SOUND OF FALLING?

Hanna Heckt, Lena Urzendowsky, Laeni Geiseler, Susanne Wuest, Luise Heyer, Lea Drinda, Florian Geißelmann, Greta Krämer, Claudia Geisler-Bading, Zoë Baier, Konstantin Lindhorst, Luzia Oppermann, Gode Benedix, Filip Schnack, Martin Rother, Andreas Anke, Liane Düsterhöft, Lucas Prisor, Ninel Geiger, Helena Lüer, Anastasia Cherepakha, Bärbel Schwarz

WHO’S BEHIND THE CAMERA?

Mascha Schilinski (director, writer), Louise Peter (writer), Burkhard Althoff, Melvina Kotios, Lasse Scharpen and Lucas Schmidt (producers), Michael Fiedler and Eike Hosenfeld (composers), Fabian Gamper (cinematographer), Evelyn Rack (editor)

WHAT’S IT ABOUT?

Four generations of girls from different historical periods are connected by a farm in Germany…

WHAT ARE MY THOUGHTS ON SOUND OF FALLING?

Though the English title of filmmaker Mascha Schilinski’s second feature is Sound of Falling, its original German name – In die Sonne Schauen, which translates literally to Looking at the Sun – is a more appropriate title for a film that often emits a hazy, discombobulated blur that can only come from (what else?) looking at the sun for too long. As you may have gathered from that analogy, there’s a distinct sense of visual poetry in Schilinski’s film, with every scene carrying an underlying complexity that isn’t immediately obvious, but nonetheless straightforward in its conveyance of harrowing themes and unspoken horrors.

However, while it’s impossible to doubt that Schilinski has a rather extraordinary vision, Sound of Falling – as it will be known as from hereon, mainly for consistency – didn’t really work for me. I found it to be a flimsy and overly vague exercise in multi-generational storytelling that, ambition aside, ultimately came up empty in its search for emotional commitment.

The film is told in a non-linear format across four different time periods, all of which take place at the same farmhouse somewhere in the German countryside, and each from the perspective of a young woman or girl that is in some way related to other characters. First, there’s little Alma (Hanna Heckt), the youngest daughter of a deeply conservative family in the early 20th century, whose curiosity leads her to witness some disturbing truths hidden by her elders, including a photograph of a young dead girl who looks and is even named exactly like her, a brutal display of tough love upon her one-legged brother Fritz (Filip Schnack), and the harrowing treatment of housemaid Trudi (Luzia Oppermann).

Then, much more briefly, we have Erika (Lea Drinda), the abused daughter of a farmhand in the 1940s who’s harbouring a serious fascination with her uncle Fritz (now played by Martin Rother), before moving forward to the 1980s when teenager Angelika (Lena Urzendowsky), the daughter of Erika’s sister Irm (Claudia Geisler-Bading), is blossoming into her sexuality over a summer on the farm, now situated in East Germany. Finally, in the present, Lenka (Laeni Geiseler) is the eldest tween daughter of a family from Berlin that have purchased and are doing up the farmhouse, which is where Lenka befriends local girl Kaya (Ninel Geiger), who’s recently lost her mother to cancer.

The ways in which it frequently, or even not so frequently, cuts back and forth between all these time periods, which are already loosely connected by soft voiceover narration and surreal dream-like imagery, almost make it feel as though this were what Terrence Malick’s adaptation of Little Women would be like. Although Sound of Falling has a much larger sense of plot than the last bunch of Malick movies combined, it shares a similar reliance on imagery to convey a much deeper set of themes that the simplistic dialogue just cannot comprehend. In fairness, it is a gorgeously shot film, with cinematographer Fabian Gamper adopting a grainy shot-on-film aesthetic within the classic 1.33:1 aspect ratio that radiates throughout, and often provides some haunting shots wherein the lighting, framing and even the way that the handheld camera moves all add to the unnerving nature of certain scenes, as does some surprisingly intense sound design that almost has you shaking with fear in a few choice fantasy sequences.

The problem, at least for me, is that the film is perhaps too artistic for its own good. Characterisation is present, but is barely touched upon, as Schilinski always keeps the audience at arm’s distance from the people we’re supposed to be following, with even their voiceovers adding little to their growth other than providing handy exposition about the backstory of certain supporting players. The only one of our protagonists who feels the most like a rounded character is Lena Urzendowsky’s Angelika, whose semi-innocent frolicking and flirtatiousness with close family members suggests a much darker history where some degree of incestuous lusting is definitely part of the bigger picture, whereas others are too thinly sketched or overly passive in their presentation, by no fault of the other young actors playing them.

There simply isn’t a strong enough emotional connection with or between the characters to fully understand who they are or what they are representing, which ultimately renders the striking imagery rather empty, as it rarely ever feels as though there’s anything profound being said underneath these visuals, other than bleak poetry readings and even the faint hint of a more supernatural presence throughout these points in time (a concept that is sadly not looked into that much). The fact that it all unfolds at such a slow pace across its two-and-a-half-hour runtime makes it feel like more of a slog, one where you may find yourself drifting in and out of concentration out of borderline boredom.

That being said, I wouldn’t fault anyone that comes away with a much more transformative experience than I was able to from Sound of Falling, which even though it ultimately wasn’t my cup of tea I can at least respect in terms of its artistic vision and ambition. But for me, I have a suspicion that looking at the sun might have been a more substantial use of my time.

SO, TO SUM UP…

Sound of Falling is a visually impressive piece as filmmaker Mascha Schilinski employs some striking cinematography to create some poetic visual language across its ambitious scope, but thin characterisation and an overreliance on ultimately empty surreal visuals make it more of a chore to sit through.