Films about famous female writers often follow a familiar pattern: childhood, career, relationships, crises and finally the legacy. Regina Schilling takes a different approach with “Ingeborg Bachmann – Someone who was once me”. She does not simply recount the life of one of the most important German-language authors of the 20th century. Instead, she tries to get close to her thinking, her language and her inner conflict.
The result is an unusual documentary that aims less to explain than to let you experience – and therefore has a long-lasting effect.
An author who is still provocative today
Ingeborg Bachmann is one of the most important literary voices of the post-war period. Her poems, stories and novels deal with power, violence, language, love and the social structures that can shape and hurt people.
But although her work is now an integral part of the literary canon, Bachmann remains a fascinating figure full of contradictions. She was a celebrated intellectual and at the same time characterized by self-doubt. She sought publicity and withdrew again and again. She fought for recognition in a male-dominated literary scene and at the same time resisted any form of appropriation.
It is precisely this ambivalence that is at the heart of the film.
Sandra Hüller makes Bachmann tangible
The movie’s greatest asset is Sandra Hüller. However, she does not play Bachmann in the classic sense. She doesn’t wear a biographical mask and doesn’t try to imitate the writer as accurately as possible.
Instead, a kind of dialog is created between two artists of different generations. Hüller moves through rooms, listens to Bachmann’s texts, reacts to her thoughts and lets her words take effect. This creates a remarkable closeness that goes far beyond mere representation.
It is precisely because Hüller does not “play Bachmann”, but approaches her, that something authentic emerges. The actress lends the texts an emotional power without overloading them.
Between documentary and art film
Regina Schilling deliberately decides against a classic narrative style. Archive material, interviews, photographs, literary texts and newly shot scenes merge into a cinematic collage.
This approach is perfectly suited to an author whose work itself was often fragmentary, poetic and multi-layered. At the same time, it demands concentration from the audience. The film does not follow a linear dramaturgy and largely dispenses with simple explanations.
Those who get involved will experience a very personal encounter with Bachmann. However, those expecting a conventional documentary might feel lost in places.
The astonishing topicality of Bachmann’s themes
What is particularly impressive is how contemporary many of the author’s thoughts seem. Bachmann wrote about the abuse of power, social role attributions, psychological stress, linguistic violence and the often invisible mechanisms of patriarchal structures.
Much of it reads almost frighteningly modern today. The film makes it clear that numerous debates that are currently being conducted under buzzwords such as equality, mental health or structural discrimination are already present in Bachmann’s work.
The director never comes across as lecturing. Instead of focusing on political messages, she lets the texts speak for themselves.
When the form becomes more important than the story
As convincing as many elements of the film are, one small point of criticism remains: Not every viewer will be reached emotionally.
The strong focus on atmosphere, language and worlds of thought means that some biographical aspects are only hinted at. Although relationships with Paul Celan, Max Frisch and Hans Werner Henze are addressed, they often remain deliberately sketchy.
As a result, the film gains artistic freedom, but loses some of its narrative accessibility. People with no prior knowledge of Bachmann in particular may find it difficult to fully understand the many allusions.
Visually restrained, but effective
The film’s visual language is calm and concentrated. There are no spectacular effects or obtrusive staging. Instead, observations, faces, rooms and archive images dominate.
This restraint fits the theme perfectly. The film trusts that words and thoughts can have an effect. This is supported by the haunting music by Soap&Skin, which underlines the poetic character of the production.
Conclusion: Sophisticated, intelligent and touching
“Ingeborg Bachmann – Someone who was once me” is not a movie that aims to please. It is a movie that takes its time. For thoughts. For language. For contradictions.
Regina Schilling succeeds in creating a sensitive portrait of a woman who was ahead of her time in many respects. Sandra Hüller carries this project with great presence and makes it clear why Bachmann has lost none of her relevance even a hundred years after her birth.
The film is aimed less at people looking for a classic biography and more at viewers who want to engage with literature, art and complex personalities.
About the author
Kinga Bartczak advises, coaches and writes on female empowerment, new work culture, organizational development, systemic coaching and personal branding. She is also the managing director of UnternehmerRebellen GmbH and publisher of the FemalExperts magazine .
