“A wonderfully engaging and deeply compelling blend of outrageous comedy and soft-hearted drama.”

In central Germany, there is a town called Sangerhausen, a small mining village tucked away at the foot of the Harz Mountains. At a glance it seems to be nothing more than one of the many quaint hamlets that pepper the European landscape, a source of fascination for those who find value in the town’s history – in this case, it is their contributions to the mining industry, which is the source of most of its tourism. This is the impetus for Julian Radlmaier to craft yet another terrific experiment that challenges both content and style in the form of Phantoms of July (Sehnsucht in Sangerhausen), a comedic fable told in several episodes. Each segment follows a different character as they begin to fixate on something that many would consider trivial – a colourful rock, a nameless musician or an old friend – coalescing in a search for answers to not only the immediate questions, but to life’s many peculiar mysteries. A wonderfully engaging and deeply compelling blend of outrageous comedy and soft-hearted drama, Phantoms of July is a tremendous addition to Radlmaier’s already impressive body of work, touching on universal themes while also managing to be quite specific in its vision, becoming a gently provocative work that is not afraid to push a few boundaries or go against the grain, all to its absolute benefit.

Pinpointing an exact purpose to a film like Phantoms of July is difficult, and also ultimately quite unwise – it’s not something that lends itself to much scrutiny or analysis, and should instead be perceived as a mood piece that covers an extraordinary amount of narrative ground rather than something that intends to consistently move to a specific conceptual destination. The ideas that seem to inspire Radlmaier (in both this and his earlier films) are the ambiguous relationships between the past and the present, which he views less as a linear chronology of events, and more as a series of negotiations and reflections. In order to achieve this, he cobbles together a few stories – one that sets the mood (taking place over a century ago in the same region), followed by two that act as the conceptual foundation, and a final act that combines everything together and creates an enthralling blend of genres and ideas. All of this is done in such a way that it isn’t only the broad strokes that catch our attention, but also the smaller details that add nuance to the story. Phantoms of July is a film about yearning, whether it’s for a previous era, a lost lover or something intangible but still so familiar. This is reflected in the original title, which covers this topic of longing by exploring a few overlapping stories, following their protagonists as they undergo this delightfully irreverent picaresque journey through both time and place.

As with his previous work – in particular Bloodsuckers – Radlmaier employs a slightly unorthodox approach to telling this story, both visually and in terms of the tone, which is evident based on the themes that it covers. There aren’t many filmmakers who approach the medium in the same way, and perhaps the best comparison would be to consider him an heir apparent to the likes of Peter Greenaway and his visually striking tableaux intermingled with a dreamlike, vaguely surreal tone that both comforts and unsettles in equal measure. It is tempting to filter this film through the confines of magical realism, but that is neither appropriate to the story being told, nor does it encompass what the director chooses to do. Radlmaier tries to unearth new meaning from old ideas, combining different themes to create a multilayered portrait of life and everything that it represents, even if we don’t entirely understand some of it on occasion. The film takes advantage of its picturesque setting, capturing both the town itself and its surrounding terrain in a way that evokes a bygone era in cinema, with the colours and sounds creating a sense of nostalgia for a time and place most of us have never experienced. It’s a striking achievement, and every decision made by the director serves the purpose of highlighting the underlying narrative and its many complex but fascinating themes.

Phantoms of July feels both intimate and sprawling at the same time, an achievement that is difficult for even the most seasoned of filmmakers. It skirts around surrealism with a reckless abandon and genuine affection that we can’t ascribe to its more downbeat moments, since even the most cynical observations exist out of curiosity rather than distrust. This creates a unique experience that defines the act of the strange becoming familiar, and vice versa. Radlmaier is driven by the idea of creating characters who see logic in a nonsensical world, one in which everything is recognisable but is slightly off-kilter, which appears to be a defining trait of his work. The film explores themes that are certainly far deeper than we realise, particularly in how it looks at the concept of unexpected connections that unite us under a common humanity in both the past and present, while also being deeply funny and unquestionably moving. Phantoms of July is a well-crafted piece of cultural commentary that dares to suggest a more perfect world in which we live in harmony, get the answers we seek to even the most impossible of questions, and generally find meaning in every moment. Perhaps saccharine in theory, but dynamic, unique and effortlessly entertaining, Radlmaier’s work is some of the most compelling of the year, a film that demands patience and attention, but where the reward is worth absolutely every minute of our time.