Victoria

Victoria is a German heist thriller directed by Sebastian Schipper and photographed by Sturla Brandth Grøvlen in a continuous 138-minute shot. Unlike recent single-take pictures like Birdman and Silent House, this movie claims to use no CGI, jump cuts, or other cinematic slight of hand to create the illusion of a lone unbroken take. Apparently the film was genuinely shot “in a oner”, from around 4:30 am to 7:00am in the middle of a trendy section of Berlin.  At the center of this complex undertaking is the titular character, played by Spanish actress Laia Costa.  Victoria is a visitor to Germany, working at a café there for a three-month stint.  At the beginning we discover her dancing and drinking in a nightclub.  She meets four drunk, stoned, but seemingly affable guys who invite her to join their late night after-party.  She agrees to join them on the dark roof of their apartment building, and this is the first big suspension of disbelief we’re asked to make in order for this movie to work.  As the narrative develops, larger and larger questions and issues of logic and motivation nag at the viewer. Yet this is no mere gimmick picture, interesting only because of its production stunt. Victoria is an intriguing character and Costa is a naturally gifted actress.

The majority of the film, most of which is in English (since it’s the only language they all have in common), was improvised around a loose outline, yet it doesn’t have the amateurish feeling that often accompanies this approach. Credit certainly goes to the actors for conveying a sense of lived-in authenticity and genuine surprise at what unfolds as the morning approaches.  Of course, hanging out with inebriated young men when you’re not one of them isn’t that much fun in real life, and watching it on screen is even duller. But this feeling of innocuous tedium is part of the point. Still, I’m not sure we need quite so much of it in order to establish the movie’s credibility, and I wish more narrative and character development could have been worked into the first half.  Visually, Victoria is also rather bland, but the lighting and camerawork are nonetheless impressive considering this is a single-take filmed mostly on a dark night. We get wrapped up in the consummate achievement of the film every time it moves into a new location and Grøvlen’s camera changes perspective and exposure level.

Whether or not Victoria draws you in as a story or just an impressive logistical coup rests in one key scene near the end of the first act. In an extended moment between Victoria and Soone (Frederick Lau), the least drunk, least sketchy member of her newly befriended foursome, she reveals to him, and us, a depth of emotional complexity that makes her unpredictable and enigmatic.  It’s debatable if this sequence justifies her actions and clarifies her motivations enough to sustain a viewer through all that follows. Myself, I didn’t find it quite sufficient, but I still went with Victoria because Costa’s performance rises above the film’s many contrivances. It’s a slow burning role, with director and actress imparting Victoria to us in subtle layers as the movie progresses. Victoria is no Riffi, but it’s an impressive and inventive caper well worth seeing.