Victoria (2015) The German Crime film that cracked the “one-take” nut (Review)

Even as far back as 1948, the one-take film was aspiration with Hitchcock’s Rope. An endeavour similar to Alejandro G. Iñárritu’s Birdman or Gustavo Hernández’s The Silent House, both he and Hitchcock used the practice of clean plates, filming areas or objects featuring no actors or moving objects to cut from the end of one shot to the beginning of the next which effectively disguises camera cuts. The desire to create a film that genuinely features no cuts were bound to deliver the goods sooner or later – that film is Sebastian Schipper’s Victoria.

Laia Costa plays the titular Victoria and the camera consistently stays by her side for the next two hours, parting ways only as the film ends. Opening with Victoria dancing the small hours away in a Berlin trance club, upon leaving she meets a rowdy group of guys including Sonne (Frederick Lau), Boxer (Franz Rogowski), Blinker and Fuss. Too late to sleep it off before work the next day, Victoria joins the 4, drinking and talking the night away. The first hour has seen Schipper’s film harvest comparisons to Linklater’s Before Trilogy, with Victoria and Sonne walking about town slowing falling for each other. In the second hour, Boxer receives a phone call forcing everyone to take part in a violent situation, at this juncture the film drops the naturalistic romance and picks up somewhere in the world of crime.

For a film to function as one seamless camera take, there surely has to be a degree of settling, especially when it comes to acting, there is only one chance to get a shot, after all, so quality becomes less and less important the further into the process the film gets. While the film we see is the third attempt, this isn’t as much of an issue as you would assume. As impressive as the actors are, plaudits need to be sent to Cinematographer Sturla Brandth Grøvlen. Even before considering camera focus, depth of field or the more technical considerations – just think about the number of shop and car windows that are passed by in this city centre shoot. Surely, it has to be in the thousands yet not once is his camera caught in a shot. The consideration spent in capturing events in one take without butting heads with reflective surfaces is incredible, and that’s before actors hitting their marks, lighting or any other technical demands the camera department are considered. Grøvlen’s achievement is huge.

As impressive a feat as finally nailing down the one-take film is, this is still a piece of cinema and it still needs to function as such. Surrendering your story in pursuit of a cinematic experiment would be far from ideal, after all. During the opening hour, the camera intimacy and immersion of the technique make the characters on screen more real and relatable, aided in no small part by semi-improvised, naturalistic performances. This is at its peak in one scene in which Victoria performs on the piano for Sonne. A scene by parts tragic and beautiful with the technique making it more sympathetic and intimate.

With Victoria, Sonne, Boxer, Blinker and Fuss being characterized as well as they are, the eventual trauma hits hard. While not as convincing, the raw energy of the camerawork brings an entirely new dynamic that keeps the film motoring along. Described by some as a gimmick, any film with a flashy selling point will eventually bore unless it’s used as a jumping-off point for something greater. From humble intimate romance in the post-club fuzz of the German club scene to a crime movie, Victoria keeps things fresh and urgent. A one-camera take movie wouldn’t be quite as much of an achievement if it didn’t take some risks, after all. And it is in that shifting and risks that the plot develops despite choices being made that no rational person would ever make.

Victoria has been coming since the day cinema was conceived, someone is always trying to make a one-shot film and now that it’s here it’s incredibly impressive in everything from acting to cinematography to production design and simple, honest choreography. Without that framing language, Schipper has directed an emotionally tense AND immersive drama buoyed by two striking performances.  If anything rains on this parade it’s the length at just over 2 hours Victoria overstays her welcome by a good 30 minutes. Even the winning technique starts to tire by that point too. Which made me ask the question: is the idea of a film taking part in one seamless uninterrupted camera movement worth the huge amount of effort? Honestly, I don’t think it is – a gimmick is a gimmick, after all, no matter how impressive.

Thanks for reading our review of Victoria

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