From Biblical tales of the prodigal son to Zach Braff’s Garden State, stories of returning home after an extended absence are ripe territory to explore reconciliation and changed identity. With his rigorous debut feature Trial of Hein, Kai Stänicke distills these ideas to their core essence, creating dramatically rich territory for his ensemble that also may test some patience in the limits of its experimental production design.
After 14 years living on a bustling mainland we never see, Hein (Paul Boche), aka “The Returnee,” is coming back to his home: a tight-knit, isolated community on a remote island on the North Sea, full of townspeople of varying ages. While one would imagine such a reunion would be met with certain jubilation, everyone takes a stand of suspicion, wondering if Hein really is the man he says he is. Harboring a sort of peculiar sense of collective amnesia about the past, they collectively decide to enact a trial so Hein can prove his identity, but the slipperiness of memory soon causes doubt to permeate more deeply.
Creating a further sense of unease, at least for the viewer, this is a village with homes only barely constructed, much less any other signs of the kind of daily life one would need to survive in such a self-sufficient community. This Dogville-inspired approach was due to budget constraints, per the director, but a generous reading would suggest a Brechtian theatricality that, while taking time to settle into, eventually centers a viewer’s attention solely on the fate of Hein as each interaction further elucidates his predicament.
With not much to glean from the surroundings of this isolated isle, a spareness also carries through in cinematography and sound design. Stänicke’s debut quickly becomes most interesting as an allegorical tale of how one’s essence can change, after many years, to the point of barely remembering most of childhood. When Hein is asked to perform the rituals of his youth or find his father’s grave, Stänicke’s formal decisions give enough space for the viewer’s mind to wonder how they would endure similar questioning. Smartly, the director also keeps our point of view in line with that of the community, not revealing whether or not Hein is indeed an imposter.
Considering the steadfastness of the untrusting community, even amongst his own family and once-closest friends, one starts to imagine a twist in line with M. Night Shyamalan’s The Village, as if the elders are manipulating everyone with a long-held lie. Yet Trial of Hein‘s revelations become more inward as we learn about Hein’s regrets and his true reason for returning. With such a narrow thematic focus over a two-hour runtime, the proceedings of Stänicke’s stripped-down, experimental debut can feel drawn-out and stiff. Yet with an emotional ending exploring what it means to play a role for someone else rather than live one’s true identity, the parting notes give plenty to chew on. In its keen skill for the dramaturgical and exacting formal approach, Trial of Hein signals that, if afforded more resources for future projects, Stänicke’s career will be a fruitful one.
Trial of Hein premiered at the 2026 Berlinale.