‘Sirens Call’ Review: A Radical Film Combining Merfolk Mythology and Political Documentary

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I find myself captivated by “Sirens Call,” a groundbreaking debut from Miri Ian Gossing and Lina Sieckmann that challenges both political and artistic norms. Much like its unique protagonist, who is part-human, part-merwoman, this film refuses to be easily defined – it’s a captivating blend of fiction and documentary, existing in the fascinating intersection of science fiction, American road trip narratives, and cinematic works like “Koyaanisqatsi,” all woven together with threads of folklore.

The movie delivers unexpected yet fitting aesthetic and story twists that unveil chilling truths, resonating deeply within the viewers, as if they’ve known them all along. This film skillfully employs deception in depicting human bodies dealing with disability and gender dysphoria – initially as symbolic allegory, later as raw social commentary. Explaining its plot requires effort, but every second of its two-hour duration is carefully crafted without a single instance feeling out of place.

Filmed in present day on 16mm film, the movie’s dreamy aesthetic gives it an nostalgic feel, transporting it away from contemporary times. The bold neon colors of its opening, within a peculiar laboratory setting, align it with campy genre B films, yet its voiceover – featuring directors interviewing a middle-aged woman named Una (Gina Rønning) – places it within the realm of documentary traditions. This contrast sets the tone for much of the film’s initial portion, where Una discloses that she used to be a mermaid returning to an alien planet, a perspective that “Sirens Call” wholeheartedly embraces. As Una traverses America, and as radio waves fill with news about encroaching right-wing suppression, particularly against transgender individuals, “Sirens Call” transforms into a depiction of contemporary America and the fight for authentic living.

In the dimly lit scenes of contemporary U.S. cities — groups of people in costumes, Las Vegas pyramids, chain eateries in New York, and fast-food joints specializing in ethnic cuisines like Taco Bell — Una’s disconnection from today’s world becomes evident, as the culture encompassing her feels artificial and imitation-based. These reflections cast a shadow over poignant instances, as this self-identified water dweller (who appears uneasy about having legs) starts to wear different wigs while observing aquariums and venues where women dress up as mermaids and entertain spectators for money.

At every step, she finds herself faced with a commercially fabricated echo of her past self. The film, which alternates between scenes where Una is interviewed and those where she addresses an unseen camera in a dramatic fashion, straddles the boundary between drama and reality. It grapples with the question of what it truly means to remain authentic when one’s identity is constantly evolving in a world that’s always in flux.

In her personal quest for sincerity, Una starts exploring self-help audio guides which guide her on establishing friendships and navigating daily life. As she settles into smaller towns, she applies these communication techniques to men she encounters in casual parking spots. Eventually, one of these encounters leads her to Moth (Moth Rønning-Bötel), a nonbinary Tarot card reader, who shares similar feelings of otherness. This encounter provides Una with a sense of understanding and self-discovery. As the story progresses at its leisurely pace, it subtly sets the stage for the movie’s second half in surprising ways that seem profoundly meaningful upon reflection.

The film undergoes significant shifts at times, moving away from its original realistic style to present vivid, kaleidoscopic landscapes, and replacing dramatic staging with documentary-style interviews featuring various subjects. This reversal maintains a balance between two contrasting perspectives on reality – the fabricated and the authentic – as it delves into the lives of individuals who are part of a merfolk community in Portland. At first glance, they may appear to be role-players or costume enthusiasts, but the film’s unique exploration of reality (where it portrays the mythical as real) allows viewers to develop a deeper understanding and empathy when these subjects discuss their intricate relationships with trauma, gender identity, sexuality, and their personal coping strategies.

In a different film, statements that could come off as terse or patronizing might feel that way, but in “Sirens Call,” they transform into something breathtakingly beautiful. Each interviewee appears bathed in soft, single-hued light, glowing like priceless gems. One scene even emulates the style of “Serpentine Dance.” The movie carries a palpable sense of history that is both deliberate and transformative, and even its less obvious aspects become deep and intricate when the contrasting narratives – the interviews and sci-fi elements – intertwine in ways that are movingly soulful. This unexpected fusion uncovers the genuine realities that served as the foundation for the movie’s fictional storyline.

In the documentary “Sirens Call”, the participants’ passion for dressing up as merpeople isn’t explicitly stated, but it’s clear that this practice is deeply important to them, as essential as breathing. The film centers around a diverse group of politically active individuals, with many scenes focusing on protests against police brutality and discussions about acceptance in 2020. However, the film’s political message isn’t primarily conveyed through words; instead, they serve to emphasize the radical politics embedded in the film’s striking visuals. These visuals aim to reveal unique perspectives by blending drama with allure, creating a one-of-a-kind experience.

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2025-02-18 10:46