This time it is not the evil witch's spindle, but the merciless bureaucracy that puts a young girl into a sleeping beauty. The film “Quiet Life“ tells the story of a Russian refugee family who is trying to get their residence permit in Sweden. In his distant, cool drama, Greek director Alexandros Avranas (“Miss Violence”) paints an impressive picture of the Swedish migration system and particularly highlights the so-called resignation syndrome, which was first documented in the 1990s.
Those most affected are psychologically traumatized children from Eastern European countries who fall into a comatose state in response to the stresses of the migration process. Your recovery can take months or even years and will only be possible if the feeling of security within the family is restored. But how can this be achieved if there is a threat of deportation? With an otherworldly atmosphere and a convincing ensemble, “Quiet Life” captures the desperate search for normality, hope and a safe life.
The cool bureaucracy takes on increasingly absurd features over the course of “Quiet Life”.
In 2018, Sergei (Grigory Dobrygin) and Natalia (Chulpan Khamatova) flee Russia with their two daughters Katja (Miroslava Pashutina) and Alina (Naomi Lamp) to seek political asylum in Sweden. But despite her intensive efforts to integrate, her hope for a secure future is suddenly shattered when her application is rejected. The Swedish immigration authorities complain that there are no witnesses to an alleged attack on the system-critical father. In order to protect their eight-year-old daughter, her parents had decided not to let her testify, but now they see this as their last chance to prevent deportation. When the traumatized Katja collapses under the enormous pressure and falls into a coma-like state, Sergei and Natalia do everything they can to make their daughter's recovery possible…
Even humanity is disinfected away
Alexandros Ayranas depicts the life of a family that is very afraid of returning to their homeland and therefore tries even harder to follow all the existing rules, to adapt and to do everything possible to integrate into Swedish society. At the kitchen table, the family members are already thinking about Swedish names for each other. They have no problem assimilating. But despite her exemplary efforts to lead the titular “quiet life” and to submit to the system, her asylum application is rejected. Given their obvious integration efforts, the question arises as to why such bureaucratic and human hurdles are placed in their way.
In “Quiet Life” the family is constantly under general suspicion: during home visits from the asylum authority, visits to the authorities or in the hospital – they are always lectured, instructed and questioned in a distant but demanding manner. The staff of the sterile-looking children's clinic in particular not only acts professionally and aloofly, but also irritates with a perfectly trained, distant smile that is almost reminiscent of “The Stepford Wives”.
The parents do everything they can to keep quiet in front of their daughters.
The resignation syndrome that is discussed here seems just as puzzling as the strange behavior of the authorities and hospital employees with whom the family is confronted. The cool staging in gray, brown and white tones, combined with an atmosphere in which there seems to be no room for feelings, creates a strange basic tension. Director Alexandros Ayranas maintains this tension until the end, without resorting to science fiction or thriller elements that one might expect in connection with such a bizarre setting. What is particularly striking is how the hospital staff advises parents to leave all problems behind them when their daughter visits and to constantly smile in her presence – a request that seems almost mocking given the tense family situation.
The actors underline this distant, bureaucratic, matter-of-fact mood with their reserved acting. Despite their passive actions, the two child actresses skillfully allow the sisters' sadness and inner tension to shine through. Grigoriy Dobrygin (“Traitors Like Us”) and Chulpan Khamatova (“Petrov's Flu”) also aptly convey the tension of the parental figures, who always have to pull themselves together and try to suppress their emotions. In the scenes in which Sergei and Natalia can no longer bear the indifference shown to them and their despair finally breaks through, their sudden emotional outbursts have even more impact.
Conclusion: In an emotionally cool and sometimes absurd scenario, “Quiet Life” depicts the story of a Russian asylum seeker family that is torn between resignation and the desperate struggle for hope in the face of the highly bureaucratic Swedish immigration system.
We saw “Quiet Life” as part of the 21st Festival de Sevilla.