Undine

The ritual is intriguing but the spell doesn't entirely take hold. Or perhaps the magic remains hidden in the depths of the film -- and it's up to each viewer to take the plunge.

Undine's area of study is Berlin's gradual architectural mutation from century to century; a shot of two lovers diving among submerged ruins whispers a warning that all things-from true love to civilization itself-must pass.

Undine's hauntingly aching romance is enchanting, as thick as the feeling of inhaling water into your lungs.

The German director Christian Petzold is a maestro of modern (or modernized) myths.

This is classic Petzold territory, where you can dwell in a place, or a relationship, without ever quite belonging there.

I don't think this film came together to a point for a Christian Petzold film. I was pretty disappointed.

Following the remarkable Transit, I was hoping for something a little sharper than this.

Petzold’s use of fairytale is rote, but – as a piece of Sirkian high melodrama – Undine is eminently satisfying.

By keeping the waters surrounding her origins suitably murky, Undine manages to successfully swim the line between erotic thriller and dark fantasy.

Christian Petzold’s films have always been rather difficult to put into words, to analyze from a critical perspective, as they more than anything else are experiences that you feel.