The Audi­tion

Direc­tor Ina Weisse (The Archi­tect) returns to our screens with a psy­cho­log­i­cal dra­ma set in the all-con­sum­ing world of clas­si­cal music. Ger­man actress Nina Hoss, best known for her roles in Chris­t­ian Petzold’s Barabara and Phoenix, pro­vides a com­plex and com­pelling per­for­mance as Anna, a vio­lin teacher and moth­er strug­gling to sep­a­rate her own tumul­tuous pri­vate life from the poten­tial of a musi­cal prodi­gy named Alexan­der (Ilja Mon­ti). She takes him under her wing in the hopes of win­ning him a spot at Berlin’s most pres­ti­gious conservatoire.

The film explores the psy­cho­log­i­cal para­me­ters of excel­lence and the self-destruc­tive nature that is per­pet­u­at­ed by that height­ened state of mind. Those who have dipped their toes into any com­pet­i­tive realm will be well aware that it is no place for the faint-heart­ed. The film opens in a vast, hos­tile hall, where a group of five adults sit and pick apart the musi­cal tal­ent of sev­er­al pre-pubes­cent tweens. It pre­empts the stern, mer­ci­less atmos­phere that dom­i­nates the remain­der of the drama.

Anna, the only child of her bru­tal and dis­tant father (and who we lat­er dis­cov­er lost her moth­er at the age of 12) has a fun­da­men­tal fear of fail­ure. She repels it; crum­bles in its pres­ence. This would appear to be the rea­son she chose a life fur­ther from the spot­light, teach­ing the vio­lin rather than pur­su­ing a musi­cal career of her own. Mar­ried to a French instru­ment-mak­er (Simon Abkar­i­an), she push­es her own son Jonas (Ser­afin Mishiev) to pur­sue the vio­lin, tar­nish­ing their rela­tion­ship fur­ther as he clear­ly has near to no inter­est in the instru­ment. When Jonas sees Alexan­der enter the life (and home) of his moth­er, he is threat­ened when faced with the phys­i­cal man­i­fes­ta­tion of every­thing he feels his moth­er wish­es he was.

The film delves deep­er than explor­ing the intri­cate rela­tion­ship between stu­dent and teacher. It human­is­es the teacher fig­ure and the inse­cu­ri­ties and bag­gage that inevitably escort them into the class­room. Anna’s depar­ture from the stereo­typ­i­cal fam­i­ly unit she ini­tial­ly adheres to hints at the deeply neu­rot­ic nature of her char­ac­ter, as does her seem­ing­ly unavail­ing, half-fledged affair with her cel­list co-work­er (Jens Albi­nus). Hoss for­tu­itous­ly chan­nels this with her cus­tom­ary inten­si­ty and élan.

Despite the eva­sive final scenes which avoid resolv­ing or con­tex­tu­al­is­ing Hoss’s frag­ile men­tal state, Weisse deliv­ers a cap­ti­vat­ing psy­cho­log­i­cal explo­ration of the all-encom­pass­ing plights of achiev­ing excellence.