Car-sharing isn’t just about saving money on gas—it’s a gateway to unexpected connections, raw conversations, and a snapshot of modern Europe. But what happens when these fleeting encounters become the heart of a genre-defying film? That’s exactly what Austrian director Sebastian Brameshuber explores in his latest work, London, premiering at the Berlin International Film Festival. Described as neither a documentary nor pure fiction, this film blurs lines and challenges expectations—but how did Brameshuber pull it off?
In a recent interview, Brameshuber revealed, ‘The studio setting was rigid, but that very rigidity gave the conversations a unique freedom to unfold.’ This paradoxical approach sets the stage for London, where Bobby Sommer plays Bobby, a perpetual driver shuttling between Vienna and Salzburg via a car-sharing service. Along the way, he picks up strangers—each with their own story: a young man grappling with mandatory military service, a queer woman on the brink of marriage, a supermarket trainee, and an academic researching the highway’s history. These interactions aren’t just rides; they’re intimate portraits of contemporary Europe.
But here’s where it gets controversial: Brameshuber’s method involved placing actors in a studio-simulated car, complete with Sommer receiving real-time prompts via earpiece to guide conversations. Is this staged authenticity or a clever manipulation of reality? The director defends it as a way to capture the ‘quality of conversation and atmosphere’ that emerges when strangers share a confined space for hours. ‘You’re looking ahead, talking without eye contact—it creates a unique dynamic,’ he explains.
The film’s central concept stems from Brameshuber’s own experiences car-sharing between Vienna and Berlin. ‘There’s something about long drives with strangers that fosters deep, unguarded conversations,’ he notes. But the film isn’t just about the rides—it’s about Bobby’s life, his past, and his friend in a coma in Salzburg, the reason behind his endless trips. And this is the part most people miss: The A1 motorway, or Westautobahn, featured in the film, was designed by the Nazis to create a picturesque route. Its dark history lurks beneath the surface, a subtle yet powerful undercurrent.
The film’s title, London, is equally layered. Originally called In Current Traffic (a nod to digital navigation systems), Brameshuber shifted gears late in production. ‘London isn’t a puzzle,’ he clarifies. ‘It’s associative, poetic—Bobby’s mention of the city as a place of freedom and music inspired it.’ But does it work? Some might argue it’s too abstract, while others see it as a brilliant expansion of the film’s themes.
Brameshuber’s casting process was just as intentional. He sought ‘young people willing to share their lives but retain an air of mystery.’ Bobby Sommer, in particular, reminded him of Warren Oates’ character in Two-Lane Blacktop—a film he later shared with Sommer to spark their collaboration. Yet, the film took nearly 12 years to materialize. Why so long? ‘It’s about finding the right moments, the right conversations,’ Brameshuber reflects.
As London debuts, it leaves us with thought-provoking questions: Can staged interactions reveal deeper truths? What does it mean to connect in an increasingly disconnected world? And how does history shape the landscapes we take for granted? What’s your take? Does Brameshuber’s approach enhance the film’s authenticity, or does it cross the line into contrivance? Let’s discuss in the comments—this is one conversation you won’t want to miss.
