![](/media/filmstills/2013/forum/20131756_1_RWD_1380.jpg)
Anjo Czernich, Aenne Schwarz
Echolot by Athanasios Karanikolas
DEU 2013, Forum
![](/media/filmstills/2013/forum/20131756_2_RWD_1380.jpg)
Echolot by Athanasios Karanikolas
DEU 2013, Forum
![](/media/filmstills/2013/forum/20131756_3_ORG.jpg)
Athanasios Karanikolas
Echolot by Athanasios Karanikolas
DEU 2013, Forum
A clique gathers in a house in the country to hold its own personal funeral ceremony for a friend who has committed suicide.
It's not unusual for extreme situations to lure people out of their shells. In this case, the suicide prompts them to switch off for a while; this weekend at least, these young people are no longer thinking about tomorrow. Instead, they surrender entirely to the moment and give their feelings free reign. They dance, love, argue, drink, go for walks, or take naps. But they also remember their dead friend, who is present in all their thoughts and conversations. Athanasios Karanikolas' experience as a documentary filmmaker is more than evident in this fiction piece. He prefers to observe his actors rather than direct them more overtly, giving them space to find their way into this state of farewell. While the improvised acting and mobile camera create immediacy, Karanikolas then observes things from a distance again, applying a layer of stylisation via the music and calling his actors up one by one to appear alone in front of the camera. In this way, concentrated moments of reflection alternate with the individual expressions of sadness each is entitled to.
It's not unusual for extreme situations to lure people out of their shells. In this case, the suicide prompts them to switch off for a while; this weekend at least, these young people are no longer thinking about tomorrow. Instead, they surrender entirely to the moment and give their feelings free reign. They dance, love, argue, drink, go for walks, or take naps. But they also remember their dead friend, who is present in all their thoughts and conversations. Athanasios Karanikolas' experience as a documentary filmmaker is more than evident in this fiction piece. He prefers to observe his actors rather than direct them more overtly, giving them space to find their way into this state of farewell. While the improvised acting and mobile camera create immediacy, Karanikolas then observes things from a distance again, applying a layer of stylisation via the music and calling his actors up one by one to appear alone in front of the camera. In this way, concentrated moments of reflection alternate with the individual expressions of sadness each is entitled to.