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6.2/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 6.2/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Fräulein Frau remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Honestly, only if you have a thing for vintage German cinema or really, really enjoy watching older men get worked up over nothing. If you find age-gap dynamics in 1930s movies charming, jump right in. If you hate watching someone suffer through their own insecurity for an hour, skip this and go watch The Ridin' Streak instead.
Jenny Jugo is the only reason this thing stays afloat. She has this spark that makes you wonder why she’s even bothering with this grumpy, older guy who clearly hasn't learned how to relax on a vacation.
The whole premise of Fräulein Frau is basically just one long, drawn-out panic attack in the snow. The husband spends half the film staring at his wife from across the room, squinting like he’s trying to read a menu in bad lighting. It’s supposed to be dramatic, I guess, but mostly it just feels like he needs a hobby.
The actor who shows up to cause all the drama? He’s exactly what you expect—smooth, a bit annoying, and far too confident for his own good. Watching the husband try to 'out-cool' him is honestly kind of painful. It’s like watching a guy try to do a kickflip on a frozen lake.
There is this one scene near the middle where the framing gets weirdly tight on the husband’s face. You can see the actor thinking, 'Wait, are we still rolling?' It lingers for a solid five seconds too long. It’s the kind of mistake that makes you feel like you're actually in the room with them, waiting for someone to clear their throat.
I couldn't help but compare the pacing to A Poor Fish. Both have that frantic energy, but this one leans way harder into the 'sad rich guy' aesthetic. The mountains look beautiful, obviously, but they also highlight how empty the characters' lives seem to be.
It’s not a masterpiece. It’s not even trying to be one. It’s just a snapshot of some people having a really bad time in a really nice location. Sometimes that’s enough to keep you watching until the credits roll, even if you’re mostly just waiting to see if the husband ever stops pouting.