Some films are confounding just because. The confounding elements are purposeful, of course, yet viewers cannot help but wonder why they are seeing what they are seeing. The setting of Transit is one such example of “what-the-hell?” filmmaking.

Christian Petzold’s film is set in France during the early days of Nazi occupation. People are desperately trying to emigrate and papers of transit are extremely limited. Georg (Franz Rogowski) lucks into such papers but becomes involved with Marie (Paula Beer) and her friend Richard (Godehard Giese). Georg falls for Marie but tries to help both of them get to South America, without success.

The weird thing about this story, other than its rambling narrative, is that it is seemingly set in the very recent past — not in the 1940s. All the cars, bars, technology and idioms are current. Nothing dates the story as historical; is it meant to be timeless? This is a constantly distracting element, even as the enigmatic characters wander around wondering what to do. If Petzold is trying to capture the ennui of a citizenship completely unsure how to act as fascism rises, he has succeeded. But as a story of power and intent, it falls flat as a pancake.

The most interesting characters — the family of the deceased writer whose transit papers fall to Georg — disappear halfway into the story. I kept hoping they would return, but they never do. Some critics have compared this film to Casablanca, due, I assume, to its premise of papers needed for escape, but such a comparison is ridiculous. There is little romantic or thrilling about this tale of confusion and misunderstanding. ☆ ☆. 11 June 2019.