Here is a better translation, because the google translator is not the best solution for a complex text like that. I prefer to use deepl.com, who's much better for english/german translation in both ways.
Even decades of science fiction literature and cinema couldn't answer the question of whether or not androids dream of electric sheep. But Sandra Wollner's "The Trouble With Being Born" at least gives us an idea of what their nightmares might be like. The dark drama, enriched with set pieces from horror and sci-fi, seems like a warning message from a falsely programmed simulation world, like a more advanced and therefore more abysmal version of Steven Spielberg's "A.I. - Artificial Intelligence". Flickering, electric, disturbing. A stray signal, not quite easy to decipher. With her second feature film, the Austrian director finds a new framework for themes that were already alluded to in her strong debut "Das unmögliche Bild": Seeing and making visible. Secrets and memories, the repressed and the lost, difficult family stories.
Elli (Lena Watson) calls Georg (Dominik Warta) her father, but she is actually just a sex robot with his daughter's memories. They go through warm summer days, they swim and sunbathe. He sleeps with her. It is not clear whether he has already done this with his daughter, or whether it is only the abstraction of the android that allows it. The old, real Elli has disappeared, possibly dead. And the new daughter is also drawn away from Georg by invisible forces and voices, into the darkness of the forest. She will soon learn more about who she is - and who she might be....
You can already tell from Elli's face that something is wrong. It's just too smooth, as if from a human-sized doll. Freed from the small impurities and imperfections with which life draws man. The images around them are no different. The film opens with a dreamy summer day of unreal beauty that you instinctively distrust. Like Ellis' immaculate countenance, this idyll provokes scrutinizing glances. The drama begins on the surface of perception - and then digs down into black abysses.
It quickly becomes clear that Georg not only has Ellis' present at his disposal. He can even determine her past by whispering moments of an alleged past life into her head. The film adapts to this idea of memory: It, too, seems deformed and alienated, as if someone had changed its structure after the fact. No event is stored in us like a film; rather, we recall our last memory. A game of silent mail in our head. A classically coherent and clear narrative never emerges. The events waft through each other, plot lines repeat themselves or fade into nothingness. An unruly film. Obviously, "The Trouble With Being Born" never means only androids with its story, but always humans as well. Not only machines are inoculated with memories, not only with them the past is often a construction. Just think of the war generation - could one really believe the reports of grandparents and great-grandparents? Could they themselves?
"Black Mirror" from the Alpine Republic
Identities are broken and mixed together. Because Elli can obtain new memories, she is also able to become another person. About halfway through the plot, she becomes the little boy Emil. The new face is available in the supermarket. Just like Elli, he is only an approximate reproduction of an existing person. But the actual Emil died decades ago in the war. Now the android version comforts his sister, who has long since reached retirement age.
Of course, questions typical of the genre are raised here. What separates man and machine, what connects them, how much of it is imprinting and experience? Is the human being just a collection of innate patterns, is he himself biochemically programmed? Or is there more, a soul, a human surplus? "Blade Runner" resonates, Philip K. Dick in general. One thinks of "Black Mirror" with an Austrian accent. Only with a greater will to confuse and disturb. An irritation that comes above all from the cranky form. This structure that keeps pushing the viewer away from simply absorbing the plot, combined with subtle shocks and disgust.
Director Sandra Wollner declared in advance that the film is a kind of "anti-Pinocchio". And indeed, one can imagine that this thinking, feeling creature would rather be a pure machine. Freed from all empathy and especially from the ability to feel pain and sorrow. It is in the depiction of the assault on the child's body that the film takes on something unbearable. In this, it is subtle enough to guard against accusations of blunt provocation or voyeurism, but explicit enough to become truly uncomfortable. What's frightening is how the human becomes mechanical in the process. At one point Elli squats there, her crotch missing a piece of the outer shell. In the background we hear and see Georg washing up something. Something human is disassembled, reduced to its mechanical genitals. Body horror.
In the moment of seeing, Wollner's film is a bit muddled and slides past our attentive eyes a bit too smoothly. Too much is sought and too little is found. Self-absorbed arthous stares into nothingness, asking questions but giving no answers. Half because they want to encourage us to think. Half because one doesn't know the answers. Or because you don't want to commit yourself. The result is a big memory puzzle that never quite fits together. Only with a little distance does it really come together, when "The Trouble With Being Born" is already a little behind us. One thinks again of its images, of the oppressive mood and this strange, distant world, in which we also somehow live. A film, as if programmed, that also programs its viewer. This is what it must be like to be implanted with a memory that doesn't belong to us, but soon feels like it does. Just like this film.
Verdict: Thoughtful and melancholic arthouse sci-fi cinema. An impressive sophomore effort that still lacks the finishing touches and the last ounce of determination in places.
Translated with
http://www.DeepL.com/Translator (free version)