Locarno Review: Albert Serra and Ingrid Caven Form a Great Duo in Sixteen Moments from My Life

      Albert Serra’s *Sixteen Moments from My Life* may be considered a minor addition to the director's body of work, but it nevertheless continues his long-standing pursuit of capturing glimpses of reality through the medium of cinema, and vice versa.

      As a conceptually intriguing yet unapologetically niche companion piece to his exceptional 2024 film *Afternoons of Solitude*, this latest effort from the Catalan director features a unique performance by Ingrid Caven at the Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord in Paris, where the renowned figure of German cinema sings 16 ballads co-created with Serra’s frequent composers, Marc Verdaguer and Joe Robinson.

      Shot in close proximity to Caven, illuminated by rich blues and deep reds, the film offers an intimate and at times stunning experience, although it is somewhat limited compared to Serra's previous works. Considering this, it might be difficult to expect the same level of arthouse crossover appeal that characterized his more recent projects, but for those willing to be patient, there are numerous moments that evoke the director's distinctive charm.

      For instance, there’s a striking moment early on when Caven turns away from the audience, exposing the dramatic curve of her dress' neckline. The way the stage lights interact with this, captured by Serra’s regular cinematographer Artur Tort in his signature four-camera setup, creates a blend of shapes and colors reminiscent of Lynch filtered through Mondrian. This fleeting visual, though brief, would be hard to envision in the work of any other filmmaker.

      Serra has been clear that his goal was not to create a concert film, but rather to capture live music in the same way he captures cinema—a transient, high-stakes endeavor. He shared with Variety, “Every performance is kind of life and death, and it’s unique: it’s fatality. Cinema is perfect for that because cinema has the same logic.” He elaborated that the songs stemmed from years of back-and-forth communication with Caven, a former muse of Rainer Werner Fassbinder (she starred in 13 of his films and was briefly married to him in the early '70s), during which he asked her not to discuss the music with the composers but to improvise over the pieces that Verdaguer and Robinson provided.

      The resulting songs—performed live by Verdaguer and Robinson’s band, Molforts—feature sequences of avant-garde exploration, yet are sprinkled with enough melodic elements to maintain interest. The music operates in its own jagged, atonal manner, with Caven’s experienced falsetto (echoing the sounds of operatic singers like Marlene Dietrich and Édith Piaf) fluctuating between song and spoken word. The lyrics vaguely touch upon themes such as love, childhood, and *The Wizard of Oz*, sung in various languages.

      At the Locarno screening, the film was shown with English subtitles, but if given a choice again, I would likely opt for a version without them. Lyrics often lose their allure when read, and following along with Caven's singing, I believe, detracted from the film's enchanting quality rather than enhancing it. It’s worth mentioning that *Sixteen Moments* shines brightest when you surrender to the visuals and the peculiar alchemy of experiencing Caven’s presence through Serra’s admiring lens. As the credits roll, it is Serra who steps onto the stage to honor Caven, an ending that feels particularly fitting.

      *Sixteen Moments from My Life* debuted at the 2026 Locarno Film Festival.