There are many themes in which we find various sectors of society intersecting in terms of how they explore particular ideas, and few are more notable than the subject of death, which has been the source of discussion in fields of philosophy, medicine, religion, art and just about every conceivable area of knowledge that we can imagine. Yet, we are still not any closer to understanding it – some may even argue that its the one subject that we discover is more difficult to comprehend the further we allow ourselves to explore it, hoping to find some way to evade the one inevitability we are all going to have to face, or coming to terms with the fact that it is perhaps something that we simply have to accept and focus on living whatever time we have left as fully as possible. Matthias Glasner uses these various thematic threads to weave Dying (German: ), a film in which he tells the story of an elderly couple who are both on the precipice of death – the matriarch has cancer and the patriarch suffers from debilitating dementia. Both of them can sense that their days are numbered, and in an effort to resolve the errors of the past, they attempt to reach out to their children, who are not at all receptive to their pleas. Their son is a mildly famous conductor in Berlin facing the reality that comes with having just become a father to a child he doesn’t want, whereas their daughter is a loose-cannon rebel with substance abuse issues and who makes a living as an assistant to a dentist with whom she is having a torrid affair. The quartet of characters gradually re-enter each others’ orbits, but soon are reminded of the reasons why they became estranged in the first place, revisiting past traumas that they all would prefer to keep hidden as far as possible. Glasner crafts quite a compelling existential epic that touches on a number of very complex themes, weaving them together in a way that feels genuinely very earnest, even when it does fall victim to a few very peculiar elements that prevent it from being as captivating as it might have been with some slight tweaks that would have elevated it considerably.

Dying is a film that lays its conceptual foundation quite bare from the very beginning – this is a story about death and how different individuals handle it. There are four primary characters in the film, and a number that exist on the periphery, and while they are all undergoing their own individual crisis of identity and faith, they are united by one concept: they are starkly aware of their mortality, and make no secret that they are on the precipice of death.  For some of them, they have very little control over it – age and disease are unavoidable for many of us, whereas other characters are intending to end their lives by going out on their own terms, which they view as a necessary conclusion to their miserable or uneventful existences. Glasner is clearly not interested in distracting from the core of this film, which is about mortality and how we all process the fact that we are going to die at some point. However, Dying is not restricted to these ideas exclusively – instead, it functions as a family saga, following the four individuals of the Lunies clan as they navigate various challenges, made particularly challenging by the fact that none of them seem to be all that interested in being a part of each other’s lives – the parents are in a loveless marriage that has only remained together out of convenience, whereas their children not only have cut off most communication with their parents (leaving their wellbeing to a neighbour, who steps up when they refuse to care for their parents), but also do not speak to each other, for reasons that become increasingly clear as the film progresses and we learn what it is precisely that makes them such complex characters. Trauma is a very difficult theme to explore properly in film, since its something that tends to be more internal, and cannot be fully understood for the most part, which creates quite a distance between the characters and the viewer. Through certain directorial decisions that we’ll touch on momentarily, we discover that Dying is a film about plumbing the depths of the past and trying to understand precisely what compels someone to exist while bearing the burden of the past, which is clearly not comfortable or pleasant for any of these people, and which we witness firsthand as this family does it best to tend to past wounds, but realize that attempting to remedy something so fraught can sometimes cause it become even more infected.

As far as its performances go, Dying is anchored by a quartet of very good actors, all of which deliver exceptional work. The structure of the film essentially divides it into a number of clear chapters, each one orbiting a different one of the principal characters, as well as a number of other supporting players who exist within the context of their stories. Lars Eidinger and Corinna Harfouch are the primary focus – the former plays the middle-aged conductor who realizes that he is essentially on the other side of middle age, and has yet to accomplish even an ounce of what he envisioned for himself when he was younger, while the latter is his mother who is desperately holding onto the final vestiges of her sanity as she sinks deeper into her plethora of illnesses, trying to come to terms with her own mortality but also attempting to bring her family back together, knowing that she can leverage her impending death to force her two children to resolve their various problems. Lilith Stangenberg and Hans-Uwe Bauer fill out the quartet, with the former playing the wild child younger daughter who is confused about absolutely everything in her already middling life, and is desperately seeking some reprieve, whereas the latter is the patriarch who has descended beyond the point of no return, and whose death serves as the central catalyst for most of the story. The performances at the heart of Dying are all exceptional, primarily for their authenticity – none of the actors peddle in excess, and instead choose to focus on the most genuine of emotions, choosing to play it mostly in a subtle key, with only momentary instances of hysteria appearing when they are absolutely necessary. For the most part, everyone in this film works well together – it is essentially a story of a dysfunctional family coming together in a time of crisis and rediscovering the importance of standing united, but it is still much more complex once it reaches the apex of the narrative, which gradually becomes much more engaging and compelling than we would initially expect of something with such a harrowing premise.

Tonally, Dying is a film with a very peculiar approach – at first, we aren’t sure if this is aiming to be a comedy or a drama, since it centres on a very bleak topic, but yet comes across as being almost blasé in its attitude towards these concepts. Some have attributed this to Glasner’s penchant for darkly comical humour that is used to underline the carnivalesque nature of society and the contradictions of human existence. Others seem to think its just part-and-parcel of the German approach to storytelling, which tends to be more matter-of-fact than usual, particularly in dealing with human existence, which often seems to be viewed through a decidedly more neutral lens (a generalization, but one that is nonetheless relevant when we look at a lot of contemporary German films that tackle very intimidating subject matter in a more direct manner), and which evokes a more objective, philosophical understanding of the modern world. However, removing these two elements, we find that Dying is driven by a genuine bleakness that persists throughout the story – the film begins with the two older protagonists in a state that no one should ever find themselves having to endure, with the rest of the film following the exact same trajectory – its difficult to embrace at some points, but it points to a reality that feels genuinely compelling, since all sense of overt sentimentality are entirely dismissed, and we are instead presented with the morbid reality that these characters – who represent large portions of the global population – are confronted with in their daily lives. It’s a deeply uncomfortable and unpleasant film for the most part, but its all entirely purposeful, since Glasner is not interested in creating a film that instils a sense of warmth or charm in the viewer. This is a story about how we are all going to face the same fate, regardless of the method in which it is delivered, and argues that every living creature is afflicted with the same terminal disease, which is quite simply being alive, a condition without any known cure and the lowest rate of failure imaginable. Yet, despite all of this, there is still time for some humour – granted, its exceptionally bleak and tinged with the most harrowing tonal shifts imaginable, but yet there is still a clear sense of the director compelling us to surrender to the harsh realities of life and death, and to just accept that we simply cannot evade it forever.

When dealing with a film like Dying, you should expect exactly what it advertises – the title itself indicates in no uncertain terms what this film is explicitly about, with the very dense subject matter interweaving with the more outlandish execution to create something memorable, even if it is profoundly unpleasant at certain points, which seems to be entirely by design. Glasner has been around for nearly three decades, working in both film and television, so suffice to say, he’s someone who genuinely understands the human condition and has worked laboriously to bring unique stories to the screen. However, even at its most poignant, there is a coldness to this film that may keep some people away – it is over three hours in length, and while this isn’t an immediate frustration, it does struggle to justify its length, especially with the abundance of superfluous scenes that serve very little purpose in this narrative other than to elongate it. There is also a lack of compassion – none of these characters are particularly likable, and while this is once again not an immediate sign of failure, it does feel quite awkward to peer into their lives, and being shown such profoundly despicable, cruel individuals and told to feel some kind of sympathy for them. Yet, in both cases we can consider this an effort on the part of the director to create something that acts as a test of our endurance – the bleak humour highlights the cruel, apathetic nature of these characters, but still puts them in a position where we begin to understand their individual quandaries. It’s a challenging film, and one that doesn’t lend itself to passive viewing at all – it dismisses the idea of a happy ending from the very beginning, establishing the central themes and making it clear where the story will lead, with the following three hours just being a steady march to this harrowing destination. Bold, unsettling and incredibly original, Dying is a very effective film, but not one that is easy to watch by any means, which is part of both its appeal and incredible ingenuity.