QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM BERLIN
Una (Gina Rønning) is a mermaid. She clarifies: such creatures have existed much longer than human beings, having roamed the oceans alongside Atlanteans long before our society surfaces. She feels a little misplaced in present-day Florida, particularly when an unsuspecting local asks to snap a photograph. She cautiously enquires whether pictures are “a friendly thing” before allowing the man to proceed. She feels like a fish out of water, in more ways than one. She embodies the sentiment of many Americans as they watch the far-right’s match against equality, we are told.
A non-binary person just lost their healthcare entitlement, and they feel just as vulnerable as our fishy protagonist. These people group in small, fringe cults. The fictitious merfolk are one such safe haven, much like the real-life Satanic Temple (as portrayed in Penny Lane’s Hail Satan, 2019) or neopagan witchcraft. A motley crew of adorable misfit, weirdos and ghouls. The colourful gang includes both males (the “mermen”) and females. One of the men was previously married, and has a respectable corporate job. He now wears a fluorescent green fish costume with scales et al. These are people united in their desire to be different. They are harmless and inclusive.
With a barely a narrative thread, Sirens Call meanders seamlessly – if often aimlessly – between real-life problems and folklore, between fiction and documentary. Una summoned the two filmmakers Miri Ian Gossing and Lina Sieckmann with one of her siren songs. The two Cologne-based artists happened to tune into the frequency of her irresistible warbling on the other side of the Atlantic – a sound inaudible to the naked human ear. And so they crossed the pond in order to track her adventures and misdemeanours in Florida, Oregon and then her native Hawaii. Una suffers from an autoimmune disease, which “dries her out” from the inside, hence her perpetual need for water. Her unusual condition seems to extend into the United States as a whole, a country increasingly inhospitable to flamboyant, aquatic and fluid creatures.
The numerous elements do not always fit together neatly. Mermaids dance with the American flag to the sound of “we are grateful to America” and “America is the greatest in the world”, song lyrics notably dissonant with the movie’s more progressive connotations. Cold, blue hues dominate the colour spectrum of a film boasting mostly grainy textures. The imagery is a little experimental, a little creepy, often flirting with video art. One of the biggest problems with Sirens Call is that the film seriously overstays its welcome, with a whopping duration 121 minutes, and a format more akin to an art gallery exhibit.
Sirens Call is an ode to otherworldliness. And a song to the outcasts. It feels gently invigorating. If hardly innovative.
Miri Ian Gossing and Lina Sieckmann’s debut feature (the two artists previously directed a string of short films together) just premiered in the Forum section of the 75th Berlinale.
