The Closeness You Crave

Intimacy (in·ti·ma·cy)

/ˈin(t)əməsē/

(n.) The people, places, and passions that you’d do anything for. The things you love to hate and the closeness you crave.


Nine-year-old me would have done anything to get my mother’s attention, even if only for a moment. I would race up to her desk whilst she was working and beg her to come bake mud pies with me in the garden or pretend to be fairy princesses. Of course, these should probably be the most important tasks for a mother of two to carry out, but for some reason, my mother would always respond with a reluctant “not right now” or “maybe later,” which ultimately translated into “no.” It was only as I was recounting this recurrence to a friend - a newly single mother of a three-year-old - that I fully realized the loneliness that accompanied my voice in telling it. I had meant to reassure her that her clingy three-year-old would, in the long run, turn out just fine because, hey, I turned out just fine, right? I had intended to convince her that her son would not really be affected by her lack of time for him due to her demanding job, which oftentimes pulls her away from him. And that, of course, is a lie.

As humans, we all want a bit of attention and acceptance, particularly from our parents. In System Crasher (2019) Nora Fingscheidt tells the story of a child named Benni, desperately craving a return to her home and to her mother’s affection. Due to her violent nature, fighting her way through the German care system, Benni is referred to as a “system crasher,” meaning a problem child. For the most part, she is a foreigner in her own life. She is shuttled from group home to group home repeatedly, leaving her caretakers confounded and unsure what to do with her. Starting fights in the schoolyard, cursing out social workers, and running away when things don’t go her way, all make her seem like a ball of rage. But deep down these actions are cries for help and cries for intimacy.

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As a result of early childhood trauma, Benni develops a violent reaction to anyone touching her face, a closeness too uncomfortable to bear. The sensation triggers an automatic response of aggression in Benni, which leads to an imposed isolation from those she could harm. This behavior creates a cycle: deep inside Benni craves love and affection, but she has lacked this for so long that she sabotages her own chances at receiving such care and thus the cycle continues. 

System Crasher is a spectacular and unique coming-of-age film, skilfully sharing a perspective rarely represented to its fullest and most raw potential. There are no clear or opposing sides and no single entity is to blame for Benni’s troubling behavior and journey. The film’s critical acclaim is owed in part to the outstanding performances by the entire cast. In particular, Helena Zengel is absolutely incredible in the role of system crasher Benni. While handling the aggressive wrath of a child, she also channels the raw, emotional talent from a young person reminiscent of Elsie Fisher in Eighth Grade (2018). Director Nora Fingscheidt explains the inevitably of casting Zengel: “I always came back to Helena in my thoughts because she was the only one who would play this aggression always with desperation. She was never just an angry girl. She always had this layer of fragility.” Source

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The turbulent and sometimes chaotic camerawork thrusts the viewer into the confusing world of a rejected and heartbroken nine-year-old. In all truthfulness, the film is frustrating; at times I wanted to yell at Benni, or her mother, or even her diligent social workers. Most distressing is the child’s realization that maternal love may not be a universal experience and could be very much absent from her life, despite being promised to her over and over again. But this film is real. It showcases a life in turmoil, a life of never-ending conflict and upheaval. It tells a story in the gap between tender, loving care and a bleak empty void. The intimate and uncomfortable look inside her world reflects the childlike craving that we - me, my friend’s son, or anybody else - have for a little love and intimacy.

Natalie Bakwinbatch 1