The too-early whispers from the 2025 Cannes Film Festival had a then-unheralded Mascha Schilinski in the frontrunner position for the Palme d’Or. Screening on that festival’s second day, Schilinski’s “Sound of Falling”—making its U.S. premiere at the New York Film Festival—drew rave reviews and ultimately shared the Jury Prize with “Sirât” (2025). Bold, hypnotic and harrowing, “Falling” is a major statement from any director, nevermind that Schilinski is a relative newcomer, having previously written (she co-wrote the “Falling” script with Louise Peter) and directed just one feature. Summoning ghosts from the past to inform this layered, multi-generational epic, “Falling” is a true original, a saga of imperfect construction delicately delivered at an ear-shattering volume.
All the action takes place in and around a rural German farm, which in its own past life might have served as the home to a slasher flick. Although it lacks title cards, “Falling” ostensibly spans a full century, primarily tracking four young women who lived on that spooky compound under varying degrees of oppression. Not since “The Zone of Interest” (2023) has a film’s sound (Claudio Demel received top credit there) been so central to its eerie identity, and “Falling” clearly aligns with Jonathan Glazer’s period piece in its unsparing, critical eye towards history. That speaks to its style, but “Falling” could also serve as a companion piece to Sarah Polley’s “Women Talking” (2022), another gutsy, detail-oriented chronicle that zooms in close, holding that gaze on the shared and individual wounds of girls and women.
Earns the Attention if Commands
The deceptively spare backdrop undergoes very little change on the inside and the outside. And despite the varying horrors that befell the families (men weren’t spared) occupying the house, Schilinski seems to imply that it’s same shit, different smell. Over the years, these families endure amputated legs, premature death, Nazis’ deposition, pedophilia, suicide ideation, all presented in chilling, trance-like tableaus. Shot by Fabian Gamper (Schilinski’s husband), these chilly frames are lively and terrifying, invoking a forced audience engagement resembling Claire Denis (“White Material”) and Michael Haneke (“Amour”). And yet, establishing those lofty comparisons does hold Schilinski to unfair standards. That said, the cumulative suffering in “Falling” lands with such a visceral thud that I found myself forcing out a misplaced laugh to offset scene-specific discomfort. The intermittent narration also can seem excessive, behaving like a ghost tasked with filling in blanks, when the thundering silence of “Falling” already explained enough.
Then again, Schilinski deserves admiration for making the movie she wanted, ignoring an invisible debt owed to any audience to make a work of art that’s straightforward or digestible to the masses. The structure of “Falling” is intricate, but it’s not experimental. At no point was it a challenge to follow where in history these people were, even if the mode of agony took a different shape or tenor. Schilinski demands more of her actors (strong performances across the board, specifically Lena Urzendowsky as Angelika and the young Hanna Heckt as Alma) than she does of viewers, and since all those artists convey Schilinski’s vision so bravely, “Falling” earns the attention it mercilessly commands. Even if “Falling” makes you want to look away, you can’t, and if you do, good luck turning the sound down.
“Sound of Falling,” a MUBI release, will screen at the New York Festival on October 1st. Follow the NYFF web site for an updated schedule and tickets.
