Most thrillers are quickly paced, intense and dramatic. The Chronovisor, however, strays from this, ensuring we feel every moment of the 99 minute runtime and that we are patient throughout. The premise of the film is what caught my eye at first, specifically its reference to the writer Umberto Eco; I had just finished reading The Name of the Rose earlier this year and wanted to sink my teeth into something similar. Chronovisor boasts of being an ‘academic noir, armchair mystery’ following the style of Eco’s works. What I had watched however, falls short of its promises.

Chronovisor is, at its heart, beautiful to look at. The visuals resemble films from the ‘60s or ‘70s—grainy and warm and flushed with colour. Shot on 16mm film, directors Kevin Walker and Jack Auen take us through New York libraries in their debut, as our protagonist searches for a camera that can capture moments of history. Beatrice Courte—played by Anne Laure Sellier—is a researcher on the philosophy and neuroscience of memory, and becomes enraptured by the possibility of the chronovisor after discovering a story about it. Sellier is subtle in her role as an academic and her interest is often shown externally through her research; the directors utilise prolonged static shots of the books she reads to find the truth of the camera. This presents the viewers with the instruction;in order to understand the film, you must read the text. Dim yellowing pages often with various languages, black-and-white images, newspaper articles take up the focus. Translations are provided for those not in English and float atop its original text in an illuminating white font.

Emphasis is placed on digesting what is being shown on screen, and that proves difficult. We are placed into the headspace of Beatrice, and though she has unwavering concentration, at times, I do not. The texts have a tendency of blurring into one another, with easy to miss information if you look away even momentarily. The dialogue remains minimal to leave space for reading. I want a little more meat to the bones of the film. More concrete mystery rather than the epistemological plot it dons.

Despite this it was the old, almost nostalgic atmosphere of Chronovisor that I adored, particularly the score, composed by Gustav Holst. It too resembles the ‘60s, mid-century tone of the movie; cinematic strings that swell and decrescendo in time with Beatrice’s emotions throughout her discoveries, blending beautifully seamless behind the visuals.

Personally, Chronovisor is best known outside of the plot, in terms of cinematography, score and direction. The patience required is plenty, still leaving slight anticlimaxes due to the lack of action. A rewatch is a must in this case as the film needs time and concentration to process every bit of text shown. When done, the film can unfold into something magnificent, a graceful, slow thriller and inherently, an innovation.         

Chronovisor is a part of the 2026 Sydney Film Festival, running from 3-14 June. Tickets are on sale now at sff.org.au