The Seventh Continent (1989) 0

The cinematic tale is crafted in three captivating segments, each one diving deep into the lives of a mysterious family. The first two chapters transport us to 1987 and 1988, immersing us in their daily existences and revealing an unsettling discontent with the sterile, monotonous world that envelops them. As the story opens, we hear the voiceovers of Anna reading heartfelt letters to her in-laws, alongside Georg narrating his work triumphs, subtly hinting that their lives share an eerie resemblance.

In the third segment, we transition to 1989, where the family is seen leaving their grandparents’ abode after a visit. This part shifts focus to Georg, who reads aloud a letter penned for his parents-in-law just the next day. Within this intimate correspondence, he and Anna have made the significant decision to abandon their previous lives. This revelation is beautifully illustrated through poignant montages: they resign from their jobs, close bank accounts, inform the bank clerk about their imminent move to Australia, sell their car, and acquire an extensive set of cutting tools. As Georg contemplates this arduous choice, he acknowledges that it was Eva’s bravery in facing death—proclaiming she had no fear of it—that solidified their resolution to take her with them.

The subsequent scenes showcase the family enjoying a lavish meal before undertaking a mechanical destruction of every last material possession in their home. This act is performed with an unsettling detachment, as if compelled by an invisible force, lacking emotional depth except for fleeting whispers. In a shocking moment, they tear apart their currency and flush it down the toilet, serving as a powerful metaphor for the obliteration of their past lives. A brief crack in their stoicism occurs when Georg smashes their grand fish tank, inducing an outpouring of anguish from Eva.

As the narrative races to a tragic finish, despair envelops the family, leading them to overdose on pills mixed with water. Their demise unfolds with heartbreaking precision: Eva, Anna, and finally Georg, who struggles to expel the liquid before ultimately resorting to an injection. In a poignant and desperate act of documentation, Georg carefully inscribes the names, dates, and times of death for his family on the wall, leaving his own time marked with a question mark. An envelope meant for his parents-in-law is affixed to the door—an ultimate act of either courage or surrender.

The film concludes with a somber epilogue, revealing that in the wake of Georg’s suicide note, his in-laws were left in a state of confusion about whether their son-in-law had truly taken his life, leading to a police investigation that conclusively found no signs of foul play.