Justine Bauer | "Milk on the Fire": An Unadulterated View of Young Country Life

Your debut film, " Milk into the Fire," tells the story of young women and their lives as farmers. While the film isn't autobiographical, you yourself grew up on an ostrich farm. What experiences from that experience did you draw on?

Definitely the way we handle the animals. My parents were the first to discover this new trend for ostrich meat in the mid-90s. We had beef cattle, which aren't as time-consuming as dairy cattle. But as siblings, we had to be on alert for thunderstorms and often helped out when the cows escaped at night or before school. I also learned how important family is. That was also true with this film.

In what way?

We only had 30,000 euros at our disposal. So my father took two weeks off to manage the farm machinery. My mother did the catering and was a set runner. My brother took care of the trailer, my sister was an animal trainer and performed a stunt in a rain barrel. And my husband, who produced the film, was responsible for the casting and, among other things, the editing with me. The actresses' families were just as committed.

The film takes a quite pragmatic approach. You immediately notice what's going on. Katinka (Karolin Nothacker) isn't considering marrying a man to save the farm, and her friend Anna (Pauline Bullinger), who is pregnant, is considering castration. How did you find the balance – also visually – between "country life romance," hard work, and coming of age?

We first shot only real scenes in this beautiful landscape, and then, by using the 4:3 format, we tried to focus more on the characters. It simply wasn't my goal to portray a story that shows everything in the countryside as wonderful and beautiful. It's not like that. I was more interested in the story of the young women. Films about the countryside often only show two sides: cruelty and beauty. I didn't want there to be this one patriarch, this strong, annoying male figure who dictates everything and exerts a lot of pressure. And everyone is wonderfully religious.

So you eliminated almost all men…

...and played with gender roles! At a youth film festival, a boy immediately understood this when he was asked about the male roles. He noticed that there weren't that many men, and one of them was a bit stupid, the second killed himself, and the third was naked. If it had been the other way around, no one would have asked about the women.

What does it say about our society that we talk about women being in the foreground?

That's the point: it's always such a surprise to see these normal women in the film! I didn't want them to be sexualized, even though they wear swimsuits almost the entire time. Often, questions about the documentary aspect arise when there's no makeup and when they look so natural and feel so comfortable in their bodies. I feel like, after five years of hope, the whole shift to the right, things are going backwards. The narrative written by men still prevails, which then imposes on women the idea of being weaker than men. That's a fairy tale. The "weak woman" doesn't exist.

You worked with amateur actors who are farmers themselves. How did you go about it? Even your grandmother took on a role...

We rehearsed a bit before filming so that she and the other actors could get to know each other, but then we did every take. They didn't have a script because I didn't want them to learn the lines in Standard German; I wanted them to use their own unadulterated Hohenlohe dialect. I always told Pauline, Karolin, and their sisters before the scene what was going to happen, what the mood was like, and roughly what they should say. We filmed a bit with the women on the farm, at my house, at my aunt's in the milking parlor, and at my grandmother's in the greenhouse, who had never acted before either. That worked really well with Karolin and my grandmother. Somehow the language connected everyone.

Why did you choose dialect?

We all speak Hohenlohe because we're from the area. Only Johanna speaks her native dialect, Alemannic. I didn't want her to learn a different dialect. At the same time, it also fits the story, because mothers always move away to marry another farmer, and then the children don't speak their mother's language. But many people don't even notice.

Johanna Wokalek played the role of the mother. How well did she fit in during filming?

Johanna is a great actress. She was, of course, a total professional. My father had taught her to drive a tractor beforehand, and she also had to learn how to milk. She didn't want to stand out at all, so she just got on with the milking. Maybe that's a classic rural thing: not talking to each other as much and concentrating more on the work. You can't imagine how quickly it goes until 150 cows have been milked. And then you need another take and another take—and then it's over because there are no more cows left to milk.

The film also addresses the decline of farms. Green crosses are erected as a symbol of this. The title "Milk on the Fire" is another powerful image!

This is fiction, but there have been farmers who set fire to hay bales and then extinguished them with milk. The only liquids available are actually shit and milk. I don't think anyone would put out a fire with manure. It's also such an obvious protest to use this foodstuff, which isn't worth much. In Spain or Turkey, they throw tomatoes onto the street, and here it's the milk that's burning.

"Milk on the Fire," Germany 2024. Directed and written by Justine Bauer. Starring: Johanna Wokalek, Pauline Bullinger, Anne Nothacker, Sara Nothacker, and Lore Bauer. 79 minutes. Theatrical release: August 7.