One day, one night, and a loose clique of six young people that are searching for happiness. The programmatic title of Simona Kostova‘s feature film debut is DREISSIG (trans. thirty). The film location is Berlin. And not just anywhere, but Neukölln, the trendy district for hip 30 year olds. It isn‘t hard to guess what kind of film this will be. There‘s a lot of partying in between the next big trip, the last vernissage, and the persistent break up crisis. The 30th birthday of author Övünç (Övünç Güvenişik) has to involve drinking. His four-headed crew and a new friend from the corner bar are ready to roll. It‘s futile to look for Neuköllns other side as a working-class and migrant district in Kostokva‘s locations – besides the Arab music in the cab and the cheap fast food breakfast at dawn. The minimalist and nice flatshare rooms, vintage clothes, and bars oscillating between playing jazz and techno can be found in any other metropolis in the world. The film is less of a homage to Berlin and more of a homage to a generation that philosophizes about the meaning of life but by no means wants to be too strict with themselves. Life plans are just touched upon and leave a lot of room for speculation, when the babble of voices in bars and the mixer in the small flatshare kitchen don‘t drown out everything. And so the fates of the individual protagonists remain abstract, snapshots dominate. The static takes in the beginning turn increasingly more fluid until it comes loose and whirls around in the night scenes. The image pauses to capture moments of emptiness and nothing – and there are more than enough of those. Some nights are endless, but not necessarily full. DREISSIG appears like a big vacuum for the emotions that one associates with that age these days. Instead of a steady job, marriage, children: it‘s an ephemeral collection.

Anna Hantelmann

Translation: Elinor Lewy