The film's premise is certainly interesting: a multi-period exploration of the transition to modern medicine, the interplay between scientism and Western esotericism, and the subsequent change in doctor-patient dynamics.
Dance lends his usual gravelly tones, Korovkin is terrifying, and Dychauk's performance is heartbreaking, yet all are shackled by Hintermann's clunky dialogue. Gudnason and Verbeek's talents are sadly wasted on underdeveloped characters.
Indeed, it's the script that fails the actors. The dialogue is so disjointed it feels like a good deal was left on the cutting-room floor, and what remains is devoid of any poetry. The characters are one-dimensional receptacles for Hintermann's reductive ideas, either passionately romantic or coldly clinical, but never complex. It ruins what would otherwise be a very touching story.
Hintermann has chosen to approach symbolism with all but the kitchen sink. Visually interesting as individual set pieces, the continuous lack of subtlety climaxes as Verbeek bursts into a 90-second musical number before swooning into Gudnason's arms with all the grace of Fanny Squeers. The next thirty minutes is a fever dream of dynamic shots and ever-changing Dutch angles more suited to a noughties flick than a sombre period piece. Many static shots are filmed on a shaky Steadicam (oxymoron intended) and occasionally the audio dubbing is visibly out of sync.
That said, Tufano's costume design is breathtaking, the set design is gorgeous, the music and foley superb. The film's more artistic shots are beautifully composed. I appreciate the film for what it tried to be and look forward to Hintermann's next project - but this is a diamond in the very, very rough.
