"Phone Walking", a proposed theoretical technique devised by neurologists, is the ability for two callers to concentrate on background frequencies of a conversation to visualise a shared location within their imagination. The rustling of plastic bags. Leaves blowing in the blustery winds. Underground trains speeding through subway stations. A method utilised to help disintegrate isolation from those particularly vulnerable to unsocial behaviour. For example, a private investigator whom is overburdened by melancholia due to the recent death of his father. The titular protagonist is often cold, reserved and distant from the hustle and bustle of society, plainly embracing ignorance to those who attempt to converse with him. Overridden with depression, he drinks himself unconscious, waking up to a vacuous bus smothered in bleak condensation. His possessions stolen, his robust phone begins to ring to which he is greeted by a soft female voice on the other end. Attempting to postulate whom the female entity is, he investigates several clues that lead him to the path of "Phone Walking", which inevitably changes his outlook on life itself.
Nölle's Swiss-German drama Aloys is a conceptual experimentation in exploring social behavioural traits through pseudo-science, not explicitly seen since Gondry's 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'. Whilst not nearly as romantic as the aforementioned feature, Nölle opts to focus his story on isolation. That intense confinement of loneliness that drives mental well-being into inexplicable actions, including suicide. From the offset, the sparse dialogue and distant camera shots perfectly imitate Aloys unaffectionate persona to the world. Staring at his father's coffin as it rampantly catapults into a crematorium furnace. The frustration exposed on Friedrich's face whenever an outsider asks a question. A relatable, yet problematic personality that creates a barrier of connectivity with the main character. That is until the anonymous female voice enters the fray and commenced the unique "Phone Walking" exercise, which profoundly transforms a melancholic portrait into a plethora of psychological divulgence.
Nölle audaciously alters Aloys to become a sensual experience, once this neurological method springs into action. Enabling viewers to listen out for background ambience, taste the descriptions of specific food types as these two troubled individuals imagine a party, and sensitively touch specific objects depicted through vocabulary alone. The sharp editing cuts between reality and fantasy, often depicted as a barren woodland, allow audiences to share this imaginative process with both Aloys and his female counterpart. Slowly breaking down that isolated barrier once Aloys begins to comprehend this technique. The transparent alteration in Aloys' elation whenever his "virtualised" interpretation of said female joins his imaginary self, is exquisitely portrayed by Friedrich whom acutely balances fragile mentality with vulnerable fear. Whilst Nölle's direction infers a romantic partnership, the surface-level characterisation instead implies a friendship of understanding and reinforcement, which coincidentally suits these personalities more.
Various narrative bumps do seem to be discarded swiftly, including the reasoning behind the unknown female stealing his possessions in the first place and the continuation of his current investigation. However the biggest issue is the heavy-handed metaphorical equivalence for their confinement, particularly when discussing a seal believing it is still in the Atlantic, but actually imprisoned in a zoo. Whilst perfectly acceptable analogies, their inclusion negates the subtle storytelling that Nölle had effortlessly incorporated throughout. Almost a forced last attempt at conveying the mentality of these characters, yet wholly unnecessary.
Regardless, the sheer conceptualisation of virtualisation through descriptive telephone conversations to chip away at unapproachable personalities is worth the watch in itself. To accompany that refreshing technique with solitary characterisation, despite the yearning for deeper exploration, makes Aloys a desirable phone call indeed.
Nölle's Swiss-German drama Aloys is a conceptual experimentation in exploring social behavioural traits through pseudo-science, not explicitly seen since Gondry's 'Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind'. Whilst not nearly as romantic as the aforementioned feature, Nölle opts to focus his story on isolation. That intense confinement of loneliness that drives mental well-being into inexplicable actions, including suicide. From the offset, the sparse dialogue and distant camera shots perfectly imitate Aloys unaffectionate persona to the world. Staring at his father's coffin as it rampantly catapults into a crematorium furnace. The frustration exposed on Friedrich's face whenever an outsider asks a question. A relatable, yet problematic personality that creates a barrier of connectivity with the main character. That is until the anonymous female voice enters the fray and commenced the unique "Phone Walking" exercise, which profoundly transforms a melancholic portrait into a plethora of psychological divulgence.
Nölle audaciously alters Aloys to become a sensual experience, once this neurological method springs into action. Enabling viewers to listen out for background ambience, taste the descriptions of specific food types as these two troubled individuals imagine a party, and sensitively touch specific objects depicted through vocabulary alone. The sharp editing cuts between reality and fantasy, often depicted as a barren woodland, allow audiences to share this imaginative process with both Aloys and his female counterpart. Slowly breaking down that isolated barrier once Aloys begins to comprehend this technique. The transparent alteration in Aloys' elation whenever his "virtualised" interpretation of said female joins his imaginary self, is exquisitely portrayed by Friedrich whom acutely balances fragile mentality with vulnerable fear. Whilst Nölle's direction infers a romantic partnership, the surface-level characterisation instead implies a friendship of understanding and reinforcement, which coincidentally suits these personalities more.
Various narrative bumps do seem to be discarded swiftly, including the reasoning behind the unknown female stealing his possessions in the first place and the continuation of his current investigation. However the biggest issue is the heavy-handed metaphorical equivalence for their confinement, particularly when discussing a seal believing it is still in the Atlantic, but actually imprisoned in a zoo. Whilst perfectly acceptable analogies, their inclusion negates the subtle storytelling that Nölle had effortlessly incorporated throughout. Almost a forced last attempt at conveying the mentality of these characters, yet wholly unnecessary.
Regardless, the sheer conceptualisation of virtualisation through descriptive telephone conversations to chip away at unapproachable personalities is worth the watch in itself. To accompany that refreshing technique with solitary characterisation, despite the yearning for deeper exploration, makes Aloys a desirable phone call indeed.