Those Who Are Fine ★★★½


The banality of swindle. Virtually every moment of this 71-minute feature is flatly transactional, the exception being occasional interludes (notably the opening and closing scenes) in which random characters recount events similar to those depicted here as memories of half-remembered movies that sound notably more exciting than anything we see. Even the climactic arrest—not a spoiler, there's zero suspense—couldn't possibly be more mundane. Visually, too, Schäublin favors antiseptic rigor, often shooting at a distance that suggests the vantage point of a security camera (though his compositions are more elegant than that, with an emphasis on geometry; one walk-and-talk slowly traverses all three of the orthogonal axes). The result is so placid as to be oddly disturbing, seeming to place the entire country of Switzerland somewhere on the autistic spectrum. This approach obviously has some built-in limitations—one is more intrigued than involved—but it tugs at certain dimly felt reservations about modern society in a way that conventional drama probably can't.