In terms of European literature, Stefan Zweig was undeniably a towering figure – his work has inspired readers and artists alike over the past century, many being thoroughly captivated by the author’s control of language and distinct style, whether working in the realm of fiction or exploring his journalistic curiosities. However, many might not be aware of Zweig’s life outside of his writings, which is the focus of Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe (German: Vor der Morgenröte: Stefan Zweig in Amerika), the second solo directorial effort by Maria Schrader, who proves not only to be one of Germany’s most endearing screen presences, but also a fantastic filmmaker capable of putting together some very impressive work behind the camera, which is even more astounding considering the more challenging material she was working with. A poignant biographical drama that feels both traditional and wildly unique in its own way, Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe is an incredibly strong film that sees Schrader making some wonderfully eccentric choices in her exploration of the life of the titular author, crafting a compelling narrative that presents audiences with something quite special, a deeply interesting glimpse into the final years of the titular character that pays tribute to his experiences, while still giving audiences the chance to be thoroughly captivated by her idiosyncratic style and refusal to reduce this incredibly potent piece of biographical drama down in order to fit the confines of the genre, instead taking it in some very unexpected directions that feel very unique, but aren’t so revolutionary to the point where they become distracting. Shrader truly put together an incredible work that combines literary theory, socio-political commentary and cultural history to be a fascinating tableau of ideas that all converge into a poetic ode to life and career of a man whose insistence on capturing the human condition was so prominent in this demonstration of the final years of his life.

Insightful, hauntingly beautiful and astonishing in both scope and story, Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe is a fascinating portrait of one of the twentieth-century’s most enigmatic artists, a man whose career was defined by his incredible control of the form, but his life guided by the winds of change, which ultimately lead him to spend the rest of his life on the run. Set mostly in the last two years of Zweig’s life (between 1941 and 1942), and as the title suggests, the film focuses on the main character’s retreat from Europe. The rise of Adolf Hitler and Nazism around this time conflicted with Zweig’s own Jewish identity, which meant that remaining in his native Austria would be far too dangerous, with his eventual demise being inevitable should he remain, necessitating some kind of escape – but even during his most recent residency in the United Kingdom, Zweig is insistent on shifting away from the European point of view, looking into spending whatever time he has left distant from the various geopolitical metropoles that he may be familiar with, but no longer feel like home to him. He sets off for what he hopes will be his final destination – Brazil, where he finds himself nestling into a variety of locations, looking for the right place to call home. South America becomes the residence of Zweig and his wife, Lotte, taking him in without much hesitation, not only due to his reputation as one of the most important writers at that particular moment, but also considering that, when looking beyond his prestigious status, Zweig was an individual in need of some assistance, which his new compatriots were more than willing to provide. The film follows him across a few different regions of the Americas, including a brief visit to New York City, as he comes to terms with the changing world, interacting with a variety of characters that he either knows personally, or who know Zweig through his work (creating a fascinating contrast between the Zweig the writer and Zweig the individual). Ultimately, he and Lotte aren’t searching for a new home, but a new beginning, a fresh start that will make them feel the sense of comfort they lost when it became clear Europe was no longer their homeland.

Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe is divided into five chapters and an epilogue, all of which focus on a different moment late in the life of the main character as he goes about visiting various people. As a result, Schrader has made a fundamentally character-driven film, with so much of the story coming to life through the dialogue given to a small but dedicated ensemble tasked with bringing some incredibly difficult themes to the screen. While there are some wonderful supporting performances scattered throughout the film, are three performances in particular that stand out in particular and give Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe the elegant humanism that may be its most substantial quality. Josef Hader, who is normally known as more of a comedic actor, is astonishing in the titular role, playing Zweig with a pensive sensitivity that had depth, but never becomes too convoluted or too frequently concerned with its own nuance, a result of the actor managing to find the perfect balance between internal rumination and outward expressivity, which manifest in a performance that is simultaneously both subtle and consistently on the verge of eruption, with Hader finding the sincerity in a role that could have so easily been a mere passive observer, considering the nature of the part. This film isn’t satisfied with the common trend to portray the main character as a tortured artist suffering for his craft but instead uses the later parts of his life to create a poetic tapestry of his experiences after retreating from Europe, so it only makes sense that Hader would need to find the balance between internalizing his metaphysical journey and presenting it in a way that doesn’t force the viewer to work harder to decode this character. It’s a very quiet performance that often relies mostly on the actor’s body language and the aspects of the part that are unspoken – a brief gesture, a yearning glance, a faint smile – and it may take some acclimation to see that Zweig is not a traditional protagonist that hits all the familiar beats, but rather someone far more complex and interesting, which ultimately elevates this film far beyond the confines of the archetypal biographical drama.

Hader is complemented wonderfully by the two actresses playing the women he was married to at different points. Barbara Sukowa plays Fritzi, his first wife, and Aenne Schwarz his second, Lotte. Both actresses are doing something quite interesting in this film – there seems to be a tendency for biographies that weave multiple personal relationships into the narrative to conflate them (with one relationship being the focus, and the others being merely peripheral), or to simply present them in quite the same way. Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe does something quite different – it presents Fritzi and Lotte in completely different ways, without portraying one as being more essential than the other. The actresses serve different purposes to the narrative, and thus bring different sensibilities – Sukowa appears in one chapter of the film, but commands the screen for every moment, each second being dynamic and powerful, while Schwarz is far more subdued, but appears in multiple chapters, with her performance being more of a slow-burning, gradual journey to a crescendo that doesn’t quite come in the way we’d naturally expect. The actresses are distinct enough to make individual impressions, but where Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe really succeeds is in how they, when taken together, add an element of depth to an already meditative film. One of the most striking moments in the film comes midway through, where Lotte arrives at Fritzi’s apartment – the two women, confronted with each other, choose to go about their interaction through a pleasant exchange, even when the vitriolic anger is quite clear in Sukowa’s portrayal of the left-wife, while the awkwardness present in Schwarz as the proverbial “other woman” is also just as evident. Their performances are masterful exercises in restraint and nuance, and they’re almost entirely symbiotic to what the film is saying as a whole. While the plot may centre on Zweig, Sukowa and Schwarz make just as much of an impression and tend to linger long after the film has ended, more than most other aspects of the story.

Films that focus on the lives of artists normally take two forms – they’re either cradle-to-grave biopics that attempt to explore every moment in the life of that figure, or they’re more condensed looks into a particular moment in their lives – both are challenging but all too common, which meant that something else had to be done to elevate Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe above the more trite conventions that plague the genre. In this regard, we can wax poetic on the performances, but its undeniable that the star of this film is Schrader, whose assured direction manifests as perhaps the strongest merit of the film. She makes some incredibly offbeat choices with this story, and Shrader’s directorial vision is remarkable – there are some incredibly unique moments in both narrative and form that bring this film together. The epilogue in particular stands out – the camera remains stagnant as various characters enter a scene, which is obscured by a wall and a door. The camera doesn’t move, but the characters do, and over the course of a few minutes, Schrader is able to create one of the most haunting scenes of recent years, which gradually unfolds through mere language and some slight movement, such as that of a mirror that reveals what is just out of frame. It’s one of several moments in Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe that show the perfect collision between style and substance that aren’t battling for dominance, but rather work in tandem, creating a memorable glimpse into the life of an artistic iconoclast that feels poignant without being manipulative. The artistry of this film should not be underestimated – these subtle moments mean just as much to the narrative as anything conveyed through the dialogue, and Schrader’s idiosyncratic decisions sometimes make the most substantial difference between this and nearly every film about famous authors.

Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe is traditional, but not in the sense that one would expect, at least not on the general premise, which purports to be an account of the author’s final years, which would normally imply some kind of overly sentimental ruminations on the nature of mortality and the volatility of life. There is very little of this here, and from the first moment to the last, this film is a deft blend of colour and framing working in conjunction, with each different episode having a particular visual appearance that divides it and makes each segment unique. This is a very literary approach, with the division into different parts being reminiscent of chapters in any of Zweig’s books. The fragmented approach to portraying a life isn’t revolutionary, but what does make this film unique is how the director uses this structure to demonstrate her great creativity, but also her immense fascination with the subject. The audience becomes active participants in this story, with the experience of watching Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe being one that requires us to actively engage with what we see in screen – working through the various clues that occur between each moment, we can weave our own individual understanding of what’s depicted throughout the film, which is quite an enriching process for both those making the film and the audience consuming it. There isn’t too much to this film that needs to be unpacked – other than the deep socio-cultural commentary that persists throughout, and the more intangible moments of existential angst, this is a remarkably straightforward approach to a story that could have so easily been muddled with attempts to add excessive discussion into deeper issues, which would essentially cheapen the actual propellent of the film, which is the quietly human approach Schrader takes to the material. Stefan Zweig: Farewell to Europe is a film composed of moments, sewn together by a filmmaker whose deep interest in this story resounds with immense authenticity, demonstrating gorgeous visual style and a profound control of the narrative, all of which results in a poignant, heartfelt drama that exceeds the boundaries of the typical biographical drama, and instead goes in search of something far more absorbing and compelling.