Berlinale 2015: Summer of Sangaile

Director: Alantė Kavaitė
Cast: Julija Steponaitytė, Aistė Diržiūtė, Jūratė Sodytė
Length: 88 minutes
Countries: Lithuania, France, Netherlands

All of us have fears – and the trick is be stronger than them. Sangailė (Julija Steponaitytė) – whose name means ‘with strength’ – wants to fly planes, but she suffers from vertigo. This self-loathing manifests itself in self-harm, as Sangailė cuts herself with a protractor. And when her parents ask her what she wants to be, she answers, “I want to be a whore.” Summer of Sangailė is the story of how she overcomes her fears, and the girl she meets, the girl who inspires her to excel and grow.

Director Alantė Kavaitė said she wished she could’ve seen this movie when she was a teenager, and I feel the same way. Growing up is hard and painful, and knowing what you want to do is really hard to discern. Sometimes you need a drastic change – I knew I wanted to be a film critic about a week after I moved to Berlin – and when Sangailė meets Austė (Aistė Diržiūtė), her life slowly starts moving in a different, more fulfilling direction.

Austė is a photographer who likes to make elaborate dresses for her subjects. This is an apt metaphor for their relationship, as Auste is the only person who truly sees Sangailė as she is. In a heartfelt scene, she sees Sangailė’s scars on her arm and doesn’t say anything. The emotion is all there on her face. Soon after a period of being friends, they become lovers, and make love in scenes of remarkable tenderness. The film’s empathetic heart comes from the way they look at each other, touch each other lovingly, and make each other laugh. This is romantic comedy at its finest.

The film’s empathetic heart comes from the way they look at each other, touch each other lovingly, and make each other laugh.

The Summer of Sangailė showcases its own sense of poetry, and is shot and edited with a visual gorgeousness that is both deeply affecting and aesthetically astounding. The director uses many wordless scenes with long and contemplative shots of scenery and faces to express her characters emotions. But it is not merely a cerebral experience, Kavaitė also has a quirky way of using strange music and bizarre production design that would come off as twee if it wasn’t so fully realised and charming. At other times the film is swooningly romantic or even harsh and matter-of-fact. Kavaité’s ability to incorporate the two without the film ever seeming uneven shows a remarkable sensitivity at work. I think it works because she truly understands what being a teenager is like, making this film a fine addition to foreign teenage classics such as A Nos Amours, Fucking Amal, and of course, Blue is the Warmest Colour.

“Thank you for being you” Sangailė tells Austė. I extend that sentiment to this wonderful film. If I have one criticism, it’s that its criminally short – only around 88 minutes long. I could have watched these two for several hours.

Image source: berlinale.de