From here (Beyond Elsewhere)…or why there is no such thing as dropping out

Johanna Kirsch and Katharina Lampert grew up with their parents' ideals of 1968, colorful woolen sweaters, demonstrations and the idea of changing the world. What they didn't understand back then with their desire for cheeseburgers or Monchhichis is now increasingly appearing in their own minds: a house in the country, growing your own vegetables again, preserving food, slowing down - getting out as a romantic fantasy. Her parents' question "How do we want to live?" secretly became her own and the documentary "From here" became a search for the answer.

A rooster is slaughtered, plucked together and explained to the child on the balcony that this is the only way to eat it later. Underneath, a banner hangs on the wall of the Wieserhoisl farm: "No one is illegal". Eight years ago, the farm in western Styria was leased by a good handful of people to run it as a collective and live there according to their own ideas. They not only grow fruit and vegetables, shear sheep and produce their own meat, but also convert caravans into accommodation, swap seeds from their own garden in informative activities and test individual and collective boundaries time and time again.

Sitting on a stone wall, Ute sings one of her own oriental songs. She has been living in south-west Portugal for 17 years after everything seemed far too loud and far too crowded, even in the "Swabian diaspora". "I don't know what it's all about, but I just have to give it a rest," says the shaman, who critically scrutinizes the world and herself on a daily basis. Ute thinks it's a lie that work and money belong together or that there are only two genders. The water comes from the well, a few vegetables from her own garden, she bakes her own bread, but Ute has become anything but unworldly: The car is more practical for shopping than the donkey and with USB Internet on the MacBook, you can save yourself 40 kilometers until you check a new email.

Wim files his chainsaw to cut down a tree. He counts the rings - it must have been about 50 years old, i.e. planted around the time of the ideals of 1968. Wim was an architect for 25 years and, in addition to designing houses and schools, he worked on public space, which as a physical space - where people can do what they want - has become almost impossible. Wim manages the Montavoix area near Saint-Claude in France, where he lives without electricity or running water in a simple but cozy shelter. With the help of students and young people, the aim is to use architectural interventions to create a publicly accessible place for everyone. Wim only sees himself as the initiator.

Johanna Kirsch and Katharina Lampert spent around a year looking for people with alternative life concepts, many of whom they met in person, before deciding on the three protagonists. The Wieserhoislers, Ute and Wim - they had all taken a big step in the direction of their own convictions and aspirations and each decided in their own way to live a different life. Their utopias became the concrete places that the directors visited as examples and, integrated into the everyday lives of the protagonists themselves, sought answers to the questions: "What is it like to live according to your desires in practice?", and further: "How can a film be made under these conditions?". The result is a very calm film in which, in addition to the narrative passages, static landscape shots slow down what is shown and create space for the viewer's own thoughts.

Not only is the initial question posed by the directors a very personal one, but also the approach to documentary filmmaking itself. Instead of observing people seemingly objectively from the outside, both the directors and the creation of the images are an essential part of the story. By moving the camera, giving directions, answering a counter-question from Ute about their working methods or working on the farm themselves, the filmmakers break away from the investigative, observational gaze and turn "From Here" into a personal but communal journey of discovery.

At the heart of the journey are the inner developments of the protagonists - they are each very individual decisions, a critical examination of boundaries and views on the world; far from dogmatic strictness, which often stands in the way of action in a counterproductive way. "You have to see what you can handle," Ute would say. Because the practice - emptying a compost toilet, melting snow for tea water or chopping up a lamb - is often no longer as romantic as the fantasy of the idyllic drop-out life. The break in each individual's biography, which is often thought of as radical, turns out to be more of a logical step that emerges in small stages over the course of the discussion and has more to do with "going deeper" (Ute) than dropping out - with reflection and conscious living. And as unique as the three life models portrayed in "Von hier aus" are, they are to be understood as examples of a larger whole: the universal idea of escaping certain structures and going where it suits you best.