Tattoos are what you choose to show the world. Scars are what the world has chosen to show about you.

(Fabrizio Caramagna)

Germany

Jenny is a young woman who needs to accompany her identity, marked by invisible scars, with tattoo extensions, piercings, glitter, sparkling nail polish, and adolescent makeup.

At the center of her existence, shared with her partner Bolle, is a spiral of addiction to crystal meth, a substance that anesthetizes the banality and pain of everyday life. Their union, suspended between apathy and necessity, finds an illusory refuge in the frenetic rhythm of music and chemical numbness, acting as portals to an altered existence. These are not mere tools but true vehicles to attempt to feel something in a world that often resonates as empty.

When social services intervene, Jenny is forced to meet Marla, a midwife whose presence, initially met with suspicion, transforms into a relationship that challenges the barriers of prejudice. This bond becomes an opportunity for Jenny to open up, leading her to confess a deep secret: a pending sentence that will soon send her to prison. Determined to seek a future for herself and the child she carries, Jenny decides to anticipate her sentence, hoping for a mother-child program that will allow her to keep her baby close.

The birth of her daughter becomes a moment of epiphany, a promise of redemption that, however, is not in her hands to fulfill. Chiara Fleischhacker’s film delicately and non-judgmentally portrays a life marked by wandering and the desire for redemption. It does not indulge in moralism or sensationalism but explores the dynamics of responsibility and the possibility of change. Jenny represents the struggle to transcend her limits, while Bolle, stuck in perpetual adolescence, remains the image of someone unable to emancipate himself from his own inner shipwreck.

"Vena" stands out for its sensory and bodily focus, offering a visual intimacy that allows the viewer to experience emotions through Jenny’s skin. The direction avoids all emphasis, constructing a respectful and minimal language, even in moments of great impact, such as the representation of childbirth. The images bear witness to an existence revealed without need for superstructures, aiming at the essence.

The ending, marked by a painful rupture, reconnects to the universal theme of motherhood as a disruptive and conflicting force, bringing with it a deep inquiry into choices, sacrifices, and the capacity to hope beyond the limits imposed by reality.

"In Vena, the protagonist draws strength from the trauma of attachment, despite the harsh reality she lives in—or perhaps precisely because of it," the director explains. "The film raises two fundamental questions: how traumatizing can a prison sentence be, and how is the separation between mother and child legitimized, especially when discussing rehabilitation and resocialization of inmates? The fragile process that forms the bond between a mother and a child can suffer a rupture that could persist for generations. Wounded people become incapable of accepting affection and frankness, instead surrendering to fears and crises, ultimately committing new crimes. It’s a vicious cycle that must be broken."

"I am silent, but if you come closer, you can feel how I am tearing apart inside."

(Fabrizio Caramagna)

29-Nov-2024 by Beatrice