Leon and Felix, two young men with work to do, head to a family cottage to complete their tasks. But a beautiful interloper upsets their plans.

It's a familiar set up, given a memorable outing in Lynn Shelton's 'Your Sister's Sister.' The remote setting, the unexpected third wheel, sexual tension, secrets and lies - all the familiar elements are here. There is lots to admire about Afire, most notably the performances from Paul Beer as Nadja, Langston Uibel as Felix, Enno Trebs as Devid and Matthias Brandt as Helmut, a character who arrives late but has a very interesting narrative arc. Ultimately, however, the film fails to deliver a satisfying emotional climax. The tension between Leon and Nadja seems forced, resulting from some unpolished plot manoeuvres. Why does Nadja not reveal her literary background? How can she just 'turn up' in the bedroom with Leon? The main misfire, however, is the casting of Thomas Schubert as Leon. He just never convinces as tortured writer, a character type exemplified by Paul Giamatti in Sideways. It is a puzzling error, given that the other characters are so well cast.

The sound design also slightly annoys by making the buzzing of insects prominent. It is presumably done to put us 'inside' of Leon's discomfort, but it is merely irritating.

The ending felt like it was missing a layer. The turnaround in Leon's fortunes is a nice touch, but I expected to hear that his story was pure fiction inspired by the events, and that the tragedy he relays in his prose had not, in fact, taken place. But the script did not take that step, and that feels like a missed opportunity. Leon is more interested in rekindling a romance than grieving for a friend, and that made me dislike him.

There are many good elements here. Nadja is intriguing and likable, and the romance that blossoms between two characters was unexpected and surprising. The approaching fire is a nice literal and figurative touch. Afire is worth checking out, but it feels like is could have been so much more than it is.

"It is one thing that audience begins to empathize with Leon's plight on account of Petzold's diligence in his direction and his unyielding focus on him, but to root for Leon is another thing. It is a pertinent dilemma that a director chooses to tell the story of the most inert, most unstimulating character among a close-knit group, just because he can relate to him the most. A testimony that why fiction cinema is hurt for filmmakers from all kinds of diverse groups to tell their own stories, for instance, Devid's sexual fluidity, Nadja's mystique and Felix's sensitivity, are, for Yours Truly's money, all far more appealing than Leon's inceldom and tunnel vision."

read my full review on my blog: Cinema Omnivore, please google it, thanks.

It's fair to say, there's no inferno or great blaze, and there's a good chance half way through your eyes might glaze, the meandering's quite slow, although there is a subtle glow, but it struggles to compete with a malaise. The perspective needs your mind to persevere, for reflections to emerge and re-adhere, consider landscapes past and present, how they change, evolve and ferment, locking horns with dread, anxiety and fears. The performances are fine, there is intent, although poor Leon is in permanent descent, lacks a flicker and a spark, you wouldn't say he is a lark, one of life's people you might call malcontent.