The Weeping Walk (Waarom Wettelen) is the debut feature by Dimitri Verhulst, who is foremost known as a writer. His 2006 novel, The Misfortunates (De helaasheid der dingen), was adapted into a commercially fairly successful film directed by Felix van Groeningen. I was not a fan of this highly autobiographical work. Verhulst is also infamous for a controversial column in 2019, which was deemed anti-semitic in some quarters. His first film as a director is set around a funeral. Christine is dead, and her husband, Bass (Peter Van den Begin), and their family are ready to proceed with the ceremony when Christine’s notary shows up with unexpected news. Christine’s last wish was to be buried in Wettelen, wherever that is.
The place is unknown to the family, but the hearse driver, who used to be a taxi driver, unlike the protagonist in Silent City Driver, claims to know where Wettelen is located. According to him, it is a matter of hours. The funeral attendants, including two daughters, a rejected stepson and Christine’s petulant sister Cherry, who is wheelchair-bound, decide to walk behind the hearse. However, hours quickly become days, and through the extended time the funeral members spend together, secrets and uncomfortable truths come to light. The tone of the film is subtly comedic except when it is not. The viewer might be forgiven for mistaking the film for a work by Kaurismäki or van Warmerdam.
The Weeping Walk of van Warmerdam?
The latter name is not altogether surprising since the Warmerdam brothers’ company, Graniet Film, is one of the film’s co-producers. The director has said that there has always been one story that he wanted to tell and couldn’t get into a novel: The Weeping Walk, where a different language was needed, one that included silence in its vocabulary. He concluded that film language would be the solution. There are, indeed, long silences in the film. That was not the only reason that I kept thinking of Alexey Fedorchenko’s beautiful Silent Souls (2010), where a man and his friend go on a journey to cremate the dead body of the former’s beloved wife.
According to the Merya tradition, the widowed man engages in a practice called “smoking”, which primarily deals with sharing stories about the deceased sex life. The stories told in The Weeping Walk are not always the most comfortable either, including Christine’s proclivity for Wheelchair basketball, even though she did not need a wheelchair. Another central theme is defecation in underpants, which seems to serve as a sign of solidarity. At its best, the film excels in a carefully modulated dry wit, which the aforementioned Kaurismäki would silently approve. In other sections, the film gets repetitive and fails to sustain momentum, not least towards the ending in a new circular setting where pratfalls are more common than subtle wit.
The Weeping Walk is constantly visually appealing, thanks to Menno Mans’ lensing, where the framing and colours are kept in check. Still, the strongest aspect of the film is, without doubt, the actors who, without exception, deliver nuanced performances in a context where overacting might have been tempting. This is a film with several assets, which still stops short just when it is supposed to become utterly compelling. If this was a once in a lifetime occasion for Dimitri Verhulst to try directing, as his comment implies, or if more films will follow, remains to be seen. As a first feature, it is stylish enough to warrant a follow-up.
The Weeping Walk had its international premiere in the First Feature Competition at the 2024 Black Nights Film Festival.
