08/07/2024 - Fabian Stumm’s sophomore feature perfectly captures the bittersweet nature of being a human in a world of absurdity, love and pain

German actor-turned-director Fabian Stumm has taken Filmfest München by storm with the world premiere of his sophomore feature, Sad Jokes [+see also:
trailer
film profile], in the New German Cinema section. At the gathering, the film won the Best Director Award, which is a testament to Stumm’s successful pivot as a world builder. As in his feature-length debut, Bones and Names [+see also:
film review
film profile] (Berlinale 2023), Stumm directs and plays the lead role of an artist who’s questioning his art, one way or another. Sad Jokes sees him as Joseph, a filmmaker working on a second movie project that will be an absurd, but sad, comedy. He is also co-parenting his toddler Pino (Justus Meyer) with his best friend Sonya (Haley Louise Jones). Sonya is committed to a psychiatric institution, and Joseph, still experiencing the ripples of a break-up, is learning to be a dad, an artist and a raw human being all at the same time.

After Bones and Names, Stumm once again teams up with cinematographer Michael Bennett, who delivers striking tableaux of emotional volatility: a true paradox of image and feeling where the former is static and calm, while the latter is constantly shifting in the registers of melancholy and comedy. The film’s crisp, naturally lit visual style contributes to a certain cosiness of the image and surely affects the viewer’s disposition to let go and feel comfortable in this absurdly sweet world where loss and joy intermingle.

Sad Jokes never falls into the traps of over-explaining or intellectualising any of its conceits; on the contrary, Stumm pokes fun at his own lead character by having him awkwardly spell out the tone of his film-within-a-film. With well-meaning irony, the director exhibits a self-awareness so neat that it actually feels endearing and imbues both the sad, sad scenes and those of a slapstick nature with the same levels of emotional complexity. There are plenty of stand-out sequences where Stumm’s command of tone is more than exemplary, but one that is profoundly affecting in its dramatism is a monologue delivered by painting tutor Elin (theatre actor Ulrica Flach in her first film role), where she quotes Joan of Arc. As the camera zooms in on her face – perhaps in reference to Dreyer’s infamous close-up of Renée Jeanne Falconetti – the gravitational pull is enormous; as it zooms out at the end of the monologue, Flach’s embarrassed chuckle feels cathartic. It is in such seemingly simple directorial decisions that one can pin down the immense power of Sad Jokes.

Getting a “sad comedy” right in terms of tone seems like an impossible task – a tricky balance to strike with no established blueprint to rely on – but Stumm is perfectly capable of it. His sensitivity as an actor and director shines through in every gesture and every awkward smile on Joseph’s face; his presence does not exactly command the scene, at least not in any conventional way. Instead, Stumm is malleable and his Joseph rather shy in the softness he exudes. It is that softness that feels welcoming and makes Sad Jokes feel like a loving hug after you’ve been crying. It's both a film that understands you and one that you feel understood by.

Sad Jokes was produced by Germany’s Postofilm, and Salzgeber & Co Medien GmbH handles its world sales.