We may find out how Gedeck's character reacts to her isolation, but we're never privy to her actual feelings, largely because in a film about a sudden onset of solitude, Pölsler is far too afraid of silence.
A German/Austrian import so weighed down by a stereotypically angst-ridden voiceover of emotional numbness and philosophical despair that one could be forgiven for thinking Werner Herzog wrote it as a goof.
An intriguing story, beautifully shot and grippingly acted. But the script retains too much of the novel in an annoyingly unnecessary voiceover. And writer-director Polsler visually botches some of the key events.
The Wall seems to be telling the story about assimilation, about a woman who accepts her lot and attempts to persevere through the cruelest of conditions, an unspoken martyr. Perhaps it would carry much more power had she not been so chatty.
The Wall is nothing if not a mystery. Surely the premise would propel such a story into the realm of sci-fi and fantasy, but Pölsler and Gedeck never approach the story in this way, nor do they give us any easy answers to what has really happened and why.