Wood and Water
First-time director Jonas Bak casts his own mother as a German woman looking for her son in Hong Kong.
My impression on viewing this film is that the man who made it as his debut feature, Jonas Bak (director, writer, editor), has truly done his own thing. But, even so, I cannot claim to really understand what that thing is. However, those who are drawn to minimalistic works will want to check it out and it should be noted that the film has won no less than five awards at festivals around the world.
The first third of Wood and Water takes place in a town in Germany, the home of the central character, Anke (Anke Bak), a widow who is first seen as she steps down from an office post working for her local church. She has two children but her daughter, Theresa (Theresa Bak), is married and has her own family and her son, Max, is living in Hong Kong and has become a distant figure absent for some three years. When he fails to travel back as expected for a holiday uniting family members, Anke decides to travel to Hong Kong and the rest of the film deals with her time there. Two things stand out on her arrival: first, her son is away on business and fails to return (she does, however, have a key for access to his apartment) and, secondly, this being 2019 Anke can’t fail to see the protest marches in the streets as the people of Hong Kong struggle to maintain their independence from China.
Wood and Water certainly captures the relatively tranquil atmosphere of life in the Black Forest region and contrasts that with the urban lifestyle to be found in the bustle of Hong Kong, but it offers only a modicum of narrative. Anke’s visit leads to no revelations about her son’s life and to nothing that significantly changes her own outlook. What we do see are a series of conversations that Anke has with people that she encounters: the doorman of the building where Max lives (Patrick Lo), a social activist who was formerly an art teacher (Ricky Yeung), a fortune teller (Edward Chan), the psychiatrist who treats Max (Patrick Shum) and another visitor, a young woman from Australia (Alexandra Batten). Alongside this there are some potent pictures of the protesters – the real thing since Bak was indeed shooting his film in Hong Kong in 2019.
Some critics have described Wood and Water as a blend of fiction and documentary but, despite the authenticity of those crowd scenes, I find that the tone of the film is something rather different from that and too studied to ever possess a documentary feel. Indeed, this is a film that seems to ask the viewer to meditate on what they are seeing. It shows us a widow often alone and unsure about how to come to terms with life following retirement. In Germany there are sounds of nature and in Hong Kong the noise of traffic, but the most haunting sound is probably that of a ticking clock. When Anke meets the activist, he speaks of his family and of how he misses his son and that seems to echo Anke’s own position.
These elements could become expressive and meaningful in a minimalist picture that hooked its audience by drawing them in. To achieve that fully it would first need somebody in the central role possessed of the ability to come across as a real person rather than as an actor playing a role. Jonas Bak has cast his own mother and she can indeed do that, but she lacks the other element that would have been desirable, a magnetism that feels part of that reality (difficult, I know, but think Frances McDormand in Nomadland). The other necessary element is a mood that encourages a reflective response and this is where for me Bak fails. He distracts us repeatedly by failing to lay things out clearly. Early on, for example, having led us to anticipate that we will be seeing Max, he introduces instead other members of Anke’s family but without clearly indicating exactly who they are. Visually too there can be confusion. When we see a car drive off as Theresa departs it is followed by a shot taken in a car and looking at the road ahead. Knowing that the film contains a striking continuous shot representing Anke’s journey to Hong Kong, I realised that this was indeed the start of her journey. But without that awareness it would suggest that we were in Theresa’s car and not in a new setting. Then, towards the end, a shot of trees is comparable to one seen at the start of the journey out and this suggests that Anke has returned to Germany – but she hasn’t (it is probably a dream since the imagery here grows increasingly stylised).
These may sound like mere details, but they prevent one surrendering to the film and reflecting on its implications when to be encouraged to do that would be the key to its success. Nevertheless, Wood and Water is truly individual and Bak brings us a number of absolutely stunning images, one of which closes the film. For the right audience, it is worth investigating, but it lacks the sureness of touch that this kind of material requires if it is to leave a potent and lasting impression.
MANSEL STIMPSON
Cast: Anke Bak, Theresa Bak, Alexandra Batten, Edward Chan, Susanne Johnssen, Patrick Lo, Patrick Shum, Ricky Yeung, Lena Ackermann, Christel Johnssen, Wolfgang Ackermann.
Dir Jonas Bak, Pro Charlotte Lelong, Screenplay Jonas Bak, Ph Alex Grigoras, Ed Jonas Bak, Music Brian Eno and Alex Purdue.
Trance Films/AMA Film-Mubi .
79 mins. Germany. 2021. UK Rel: 30 September 2022. No Cert.