Portrait of the artist’s mother as an old woman. A farewell vignette, a final sketch from her nursing home, silent, aloof, clumsy, metallic gray, candidly-bluntly-awkwardly direct. And proud of what she has accomplished & what has remained incomplete, the lack of architecture & aesthetics & perfection & polish. Like all of Friedl vom Gröller’s films, Bliss is as brief and to the point as a shock or a slap to a government minister’s cheek. And as beautiful as a woman of a certain age who refuses to put on makeup, while rough gravel rattles in the stomach of a she-wolf.
Friedl vom Gröller