“Hammer’s return is a triumphant one.”

On the list of most awkward situations you can find yourself in, walking in on your parents having sex is up there, and for Amanda (Juliette Binoche) there is an extra layer of discomfort when she bursts into the bedroom of her elderly parents. Her mother Leslie (Anna Calder-Marshall) is suffering from advanced dementia, and in no capacity to consent to sex with her husband. Yet Amanda’s stepfather Martin (Tom Courtenay) keeps forcing it on her, even if he doesn’t see it as coercion. At the end of her wits, Amanda calls the police, but this opens up a can of worms and there is no way of getting them back in. As a plethora of well-meaning authorities, from the police to psychologists, are brought into the situation, Amanda tries to find a solution that works for all parties involved. After a series of consults with professionals who come to the logical conclusion that the living situation of Leslie and Martin is no longer viable, Leslie is taken to a care facility. But another incident of a sexual nature drives her and Martin back into each other’s arms. Is them living together maybe the best solution after all?

Lance Hammer’s debut Ballast instantly made him a name to keep an eye on, and yet it took 18 years for him to finally return to the place where it all started: Berlin. His second film, Queen at Sea, is again a sober family drama, this time touching upon themes like consent, autonomy, and the difficulties society still has with handling the effects of dementia and those who suffer from it. With a strong directorial hand and a core set of outstanding performances, Queen at Sea lays bare the imperfections of the medical system and the strain this disease puts on family members. A methodical, almost procedural approach sees Leslie undergo examination after examination, whether physical (to establish sexual assault) or psychological (to establish the deterioration of her mental state), while Amanda has to fend off a stubborn stepfather who insists that sex can be beneficial to Leslie’s condition. Whether his bit of internet-diagnosis is purely self-serving or something he truly believes is left ambiguous, though it is hard to deny he loves his wife.

The film’s solemn and austere tone as it moves methodically through the assessment of Leslie’s condition can be felt in the runtime. Deeply dramatic yet devoid of melodrama, some might find the film a slog to sit through, even if Hammer brings in a bit of youthful hope with a parallel narrative focusing on Amanda’s teenage daughter Sara (Florence Hunt) finding first love. This provides the film with an ending that blatantly juxtaposes against its beginning, and is a more upbeat conclusion than the single shock moment that precedes it would have been.

Thankfully, as austere as the film appears, it is directed by someone who knows he is working in a visual medium. Hammer composes his shots meticulously when filming inside Leslie and Martin’s home, where he tends to frame the characters low in the image with lots of negative space around to accentuate emotional distance and helplessness. Even when two characters are in the frame, he uses the plain white walls behind them to create distance. Static shots from recurring viewpoints make the house almost a character of its own, especially with the transitional spaces between rooms and floors giving the home a lifeless air and an almost tomb-like atmosphere. To further highlight the lack of connection, architectural elements like stairwells and doorframes often envelop the characters to make them seem more isolated. By contrast, Sara’s storyline is rendered as much more alive, with an active, moving camera working in opposition to the rigidity of her grandparents’ environments. Adolpho Veloso’s muted color palette in and around the house becomes infused with color in the world of Sara and her new boyfriend. Even the music follows suit.

Thematically a kindred spirit to films like Haneke’s Amour or Gaspar Noé’s Vortex, with shades of Mike Leigh’s more sparse works (Hard Truths comes to mind), Queen at Sea is not an easy film to get through because of its tough subject matter and its sober atmosphere. What elevates the film, besides Hammer’s exceptional direction, is the acting of the four key players. Juliette Binoche’s career is stacked with great performances, but the mixture of frustration, anger, and helplessness she displays through the smallest of gestures and the slightest of facial changes places her Amanda among her best work to date. Tucking in a lock of hair or stumbling over words as Amanda can barely hide her desperation might feel mannered in the hands of another actress, but when done by Binoche it feels utterly realistic and makes her character relatable. Calder-Marshall in the meantime is tasked with a character who is no longer fully in this world mentally, which is a tough act, but she infuses Leslie with a childlike sweetness that is just far enough off to make it believable that the wheels aren’t turning correctly upstairs anymore. Courtenay is convincing as a stubborn old goat with a big place in his heart for his wife; and Hunt as a young woman torn between a difficult home situation and the butterflies in her stomach, holds her own against such accomplished actors, a late outburst by Sara towards her grandfather a particularly strong moment.

With an exceptional cast and extraordinary filmmaking, one could say Queen at Sea was well worth the wait, especially since Hammer improves on his work in Ballast (already a strong debut to begin with). While its rigidity and subdued emotions, paired with its procedural approach might turn some audiences off, Hammer’s return is a triumphant one. Let’s just hope it’s not going to take another 18 years for his next project to see the light.

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