Sad Jokes, directed by and starring Fabian Stumm (Bones and Names, Bruxelles), screens tomorrow and on Sunday as part of this year's BFI Flare. The story follows Stumm's Joseph, a filmmaker who lives with his close friend Sonya (Haley Louise Jones), who also happens to be the mother of his child. Sonya is struggling with her mental health and has spent the last few months in and out of a clinic, from which she tends to discharge herself before her treatment is complete. As Sonya attempts to get her life back on track, Joseph becomes the primary caregiver to their son, Pino (Justus Meyer), while working on various film projects.
Joseph has recently completed one film, which is about to premiere, and is preparing to shoot another, an absurdist comedy whose script is currently failing to convince producer Gero (Godehard Giese). Given his work commitments and parenting duties, it is mildly surprising to learn that Joseph has the time to attend life-drawing classes, but it is there that he persuades his sunny, likeable teacher Elin (Ulrica Flach) to work on his new film. Elin is tasked with moulding a ridiculously outsized head based on Joseph, which perhaps tells us something about his ego—although he generally comes across as a fairly grounded sort.
One of Sad Jokes' early scenes (pictured top) sees Joseph playing shopkeepers with Pino. Perhaps inevitably, the goods involved are DVDs from Joseph's own collection, and this interaction plays out against a backdrop of a bookcase crammed with an extensive range of films, many of which are from UK label Artificial Eye. The titles that find their way into Pino's bag include an Éric Rohmer box set, which underlines what one of Sad Jokes' key cinematic reference points is. With this in mind, it would be easy to dismiss the film as a Rohmer pastiche, but Stumm injects enough of his own distinct style into proceedings.
The director is good value in the lead role, but although Joseph is the main character, Fabian Stumm generously makes room for others to shine: Jones doesn't get a great deal of screen time, but nevertheless impresses as the troubled Sonya, while the excellent Flach—a Swedish theatre veteran who here makes her feature debut—provides a genuinely showstopping moment with her superb delivery of a Joan of Arc speech. The beautifully photographed Sad Jokes is a solid, assured piece of work, one that demonstrates real progress on the part of its talented writer-director, whose next film will be set in Belgium.
