Der Nachtmahr | 2015 TIFF Review

Angst von der Angst: Concept Overrides Construction in Weak Psychological Metaphor

It’s evident a majority of the artistry that went into the conceptualization of Der Nachtmahr (The Nightmare), the sophomore feature from Akiz (aka Achim Bornhak), revolves around its provocative piece de resistance, a hunchbacked alien creature hobbling around in the periphery of its terrorized protagonist’s psyche. If only as much artistry had been poured into the remainder of the film perhaps this wouldn’t seem like fodder for a decent short feature stretched precariously beyond belief.

A group of mostly white and privileged drug addled teenagers stomp around secret raves, defiling the wishes of their parents in their endless revelry. Daytime hours are spent wallowing about in smoke-filled rooms, with this particular group lazily regarding a less stable cohort as she disappears down a vaguely defined rabbit hole of increasingly materialized fear. Lovers of electronic beats may appreciate the seizure inducing light show raves, and though a warning near the opening credits warns the film is meant to be viewed loudly, the director’s purpose seems set on discombobulating the senses merely so we don’t question why we’re stuck watching such a vapidly drawn central character.

Sixteen year old Tina (Carolyn Genzkow) seems like another ordinary teenage girl in her group of friends, sneaking out at night to attend raves and ingest any number of illicit substances as they brood over boys. Traumatic images witnessed on a cell phone seem to be reinterpreted by Tina’s mind after one particularly heavy night of partying, and she wakes up with a strange little creature following her everywhere. Causing minor havoc, no one else can see the creature and her therapist suggests she confront it—ask it what it wants with her. And so, Tina does, and discovers more of a friend than an enemy. But it’s a union that also changes Tina in alarming ways.

Even at a slight running time of eighty-eight minutes, The Nightmare (perhaps destined to be confused with Rodney Ascher’s same titled documentary from 2015) outweighs its welcome. Though the eventual and frequent appearance of the creature promises some late staged fascination, this ultimately never transpires, and we’re instead left confused as the creature metamorphoses from a figment of Tina’s imagination to a being with physical dimension others are able to see, and clearly an extension of the troubled girl’s being. But the surprise is ruined from the first frames, as the prototype of Tina’s little friend is revealed to be born from a grotesque picture the girls are shown in class, with Tina and the monsterous image morphed together via a silly phone app.

Whatever psychological ruminations Akiz is attempting to build concerning Tina’s unhinged mental state, presumably as a product of superficial and neglectful social norms, recalling the memorable line from Lucky McKee’s excellent 2001 film May, “If you can’t find a friend, make one,” it’s too flimsy to be seriously considered as an intelligent metaphor.

Tina is another unpleasant rendering of young women made to feel useless or unattractive thanks to the empty qualifiers surrounding them—and although this is certainly a problematic issue still worthy of cinematic examination, this particular woman’s problems seem to stem from a psychotic break brought on by too many drug binges on an empty stomach.

Reviewed on September 17th at the 2015 Toronto International Film Festival – Vanguard Program. 88 Mins.

★½/☆☆☆☆☆