Hagazussa

In the stark, windswept heights of 15th‑century Austria, a remote alpine valley clings to the edge of civilization. The landscape is a mixture of jagged peaks, frozen meadows and ancient stone cottages, all drenched in a silence that feels both timeless and oppressive. Folklore hangs in the thin air like frost, and the ever‑present threat of the unknown seeps from the woods, turning every rustle and shadow into a whispered warning. The film’s tone is deliberately bleak and meditative, inviting viewers to feel the weight of isolation as much as the chill of the mountains themselves.

At the heart of this austere world is Albrun, a young woman whose life has been shaped by loss, duty, and the relentless demands of survival. Raised by her mother amid a modest goat‑herding existence, she inherits a deep connection to the land and its rhythms, as well as the fragile line that separates everyday hardship from the realm of superstition. The local community, bound by rigid belief and suspicion, keeps a cautious distance, casting a subtle but constant pressure on anyone who might stray from accepted norms.

As seasons turn, Albrun finds herself navigating a precarious balance between the ancient stories that echo through the valley and the stark realities of her isolated life. The surrounding myths—tales of spirits and curses—blur with her own thoughts, sowing doubt about what is real and what is imagined. This internal struggle is amplified by the relentless solitude of the highlands, where the wind can feel like a voice and the darkness a veil over the mind.

The film unfolds as a haunting meditation on faith, madness, and the human yearning to cling to sanity when surrounded by forces that defy comprehension. Through its stark visuals and lingering soundscape, it asks whether one can preserve the self when the world outside is as unforgiving as the wilderness within.

Last Updated: August 10, 2025 at 01:56