It's not surprising that the films of Ulrich Seidl, who was once on his way to becoming a Catholic priest, are so rich in symbolism and metaphors. So many of his frames remind me of religious paintings, only his saints are gnawing on a chicken leg in worn-out underwear, and a moment of contemplation ends with a burp. Seidl's films strike me as so layered that the viewer can choose any path and come out of it with an entirely subjective impression. I love to get lost in his imagery and am interested in his characters, who are both painfully average and yet also so eccentric. Hundstage is an impression more than a classically structured film, a world made of a handful of people who have two things in common—trying to deal with the heat and finding ways out of their personal misery. When it's hot we all tend to do the same thing—we lay in the sun to get a tan, hide in the shadows, cool ourselves off with a swim or an ice-cream, but the things we do to make our lives more exciting, and the lengths we go to to feel more fulfilled, is vastly different and so very personal. And this is what Seidl is good at—uncovering those little things that make us unique, and exploring the dark alleyways where desire take us. Having said that, the lack of a structured narrative does lead the film into bit of a dead end street about halfway in, at which point it becomes quite repetitive. And compared to the other Seidl films I've seen this felt more exploitative. With certain moments he's trying too hard to make a point, and he's almost a little too relentless, too rigid in the portrayal of these people, as he gives them little to no opportunity to show us what they're like on a better day.
