There’s a moment in Sad Jokes (German/English) that stuck with me—when the filmmaker, Joseph, nervously unfolds his script before a producer who blurts out, “I don’t understand what this film is about.” Honestly? I felt that confusion too, like I was drifting through a fog without a compass. People online call it a self-reflective dive into what cracks us up or brings us to tears, a quirky meditation on the messy tapestry of human existence. But to be frank, I found myself completely adrift and, well, pretty bored.
Joseph’s world is layered with all these odd scenarios: a film director juggling the chaos of being a dad to little Pino alongside his best friend Sonya, who’s struggling with depression. There’s that uncomfortable meeting where the producer gnaws on dog treats as if it’s the strangest normal thing. And then Joseph’s tangled romance with Dominic, a nude model, which crashes on the rocks of his parental duties. It’s like someone handed the film a collection of moments that are ripe for comedy’s absurdity—but instead of landing laughs, they bubble awkwardly under the surface, leaving you wondering, “Is this supposed to be funny?”
I couldn’t help but roll my eyes so often I was practically sending them into orbit. The humor here feels like sarcasm stuck in a puzzle—an intense argument where laughter is bitter or maybe pain cleverly disguised as joy. Maybe I’m missing something, but these expressions of comedy felt more like masks wearing smiles that never quite reached the eyes. When the producer declares he doesn’t understand the script, I actually cheered inside—yep, someone else is thinking this! It’s baffling to me how this film, which felt more puzzling than playful, is hailed at so many festivals. I guess it’s true what they say about some European films: there’s this huge gulf between what critics swoon over and what the average viewer like me actually enjoys.
Maybe this movie was aiming for a poetic critique of life’s sad ironies, but instead, it hit me like a cold shower—unexpectedly harsh and honestly, kind of uninviting. I walked away feeling like I’d watched a pastel painting that promised color but left me staring at faded strokes. For a film that’s supposed to turn the human condition inside out, it somehow left me feeling very, very flat. If your idea of a good time isn’t wrestling with obscure moods or searching desperately for a joke that lands, you might want to give this one a pass. After all, not every “art film” becomes art for everyone, and that’s perfectly okay.
