LAB OF CULTURAL, CREATIVE AND FESTIVAL JOURNALISM
FILM REVIEW: A THOUSAND WAVES AWAY

Nature appears not only as the background of the portraits, but as a somehow immanent presence. Wittmann's films often occupy and deploy natural environments and natural elements, but here her approach is more dynamic than before.

The initial stillness of the people depicted is soon interrupted, and Nika Son's music encourages us to feel an inner state of restlessness. With this shift, Wittmann seems to suggest a certain relationship between nature and man, as if the latter couldn’t stand the stillness of trees and flowers — and had to push towards the more dynamic state of rivers and water in general.

Furher, water represents both an anticipation of the human abandonment of stillness and a push towards movement. At times, the screen goes black, alternating with images featuring short lines of text, scattered across the frame.

Not only does this text give the short film its title, but it also cohesive, cadenzato rhythm. Wittmann works with several layers at the same time — images, sounds, words — sometimes creating a descriptive relationship between them, such as when the text mentions the whispers audible in the background, and sometimes simply coupling those levels together.

Meaning emerges from this juxtaposition of levels, and from their coexistence on screen. There is a hint of a narrative here, more so than in most of Wittmann's previous shorts (most recently The Swell [2023]), adding a new layer to her usual forms of experimentation — perhaps indicative of a pandemic-inspired desire for movement.

A visual poem running a little over 10 minutes, A Thousand Waves Away is allusive and asks us to immerse our feet in its waters, just like some of the people do in the film itself.

Review by Filip Etmishovski

The most recent short by Helena Wittmann is this mysterious and tense 10-minute film from 2025. Rather than a conventional narrative, it is a poetic work featuring idyllic nature combined with music that creates emotional tension from the very beginning.

Alongside the actors (Arda Çiltepe, Dagmar Bock, Julia Tielke, Theresa George), there are around a dozen other voices heard throughout the film, all of whom participate in audio-form only. The text appears piecemeal. In total it reads: "A thousand waves ago, in a place where much no longer made sense, the whispers are tender but faint and they hold on to look for solid ground. In a place trembling underground.“

The series of sentences resembling lines from a poem appears between scenes, which at first resemble some kind of subtitles but do not seem to be directly related to the action. This somewhat poetic aspect adds another layer to the abstract quality of the story. The "plot" may be read as trying to find your way through a life which is beautiful like nature — but it can often be hard to orient and find your way through it, as it is sometimes in nature.

The score by Wittmann`s regular collaborator Nika Son occupies a counterpointing role. From the beginning it creates a tense atmosphere similar to a thriller and at times even horror, at a pace and intensity which become faster and stronger as the minutes pass.

This forms a contrast with the close-ups and landscape shots of nature — flora and foliage, and bodies of water — which convey a calming effect. Wittmann thus leaves the audience drifting between beauty and unease; waves of interpretation may continue to lap our minds, long after the film's duration has ended.

5th Lab of Cultural, Creative and Festival Journalism
European Film Festival Palić 2026