SOLVENT, 94min,. Austria
Directed by Johannes Grenzfurthner
While searching for Nazi documents in an Austrian farmhouse, a team of experts uncovers a hidden secret buried in its bowels. American expatriate Gunner S. Holbrook becomes obsessed with solving the mystery, and as his sanity wanes, he must confront an insatiable evil. Can he find redemption before it drains the life out of him?

http://monochrom.at/solvent
https://www.facebook.com/solvent.film/
https://www.instagram.com/monochrom.film/

Get to know the filmmaker:

1. What motivated you to make this film?

"Solvent" was born out of a need to confront and dissect Austria’s historical baggage, but not in a traditional or sanitized way. The farmhouse setting, tied to my own family history, became a metaphorical stage for exploring guilt, complicity, and the grotesque ways the past seeps into our present. I’ve always been fascinated (and horrified) by how easily we fall into patterns of denial and silence. This film is my attempt to scream into that silence, to mix surreal horror and black humor into a narrative that forces us to face uncomfortable truths. The past isn’t dead. It’s a festering wound we carry, and I wanted to visualize that.

2. From the idea to the finished product, how long did it take for you to make this film?

The production timeline was chaos in the best possible way. We, of course, wanted to shoot in my grandfather’s derelict farmhouse, but the mold situation was far worse than anticipated—it was spreading into neighboring houses. With health department issues looming, we had just two months to shoot on-site before we had to completely empty the place of furniture, old clothes, and papers. Act 1 was filmed while Ben Roberts and I were still figuring out Acts 2 and 3. We had a rough arc in mind, but the details (and even characters) emerged organically. For instance, Bartholdi’s entire plot only materialized after we had already shot chunks of footage. The whole process felt like molding clay while the potter's wheel tried to electrocute us.

3. How would you describe your film in two words!?

Demon piss.

4. What was the biggest obstacle you faced in completing this film?

You mean besides financing this madness? Balancing historical authenticity with the surreal, comical, absurdist elements was a constant tightrope walk. I wanted to explore Austria’s cultural and historical trauma without reducing it to a simplistic caricature of Nazi horror. And then, of course, there were the technical challenges. The goddamn puke machine we built wouldn’t work, and some of the shots in the wine cellar were ridiculously hard to pull off because of how narrow the space was. My cinematographer, Florian Hofer, was incredible—he carried that heavy camera rig on his head the whole time. One day, he was so exhausted, he literally couldn’t lift his head off the ground anymore. And then there was the editing. Anton Paievski is a wizard at his craft, but we spent long, grueling days together assembling this puzzle of a film, often without a clear picture of how it should look. That’s when the movie truly came to life—through trial, error, and a shared willingness to embrace the chaos.

5. What were your initial reactions when watching the audience talking about your film in the feedback video?

Oh, it was great, really. There were plenty of comments that echoed things I’d heard from other reviewers and journalists, but also some surprising insights that hadn’t come up before. One of the feedback videos focused heavily on body parts (eyes, genitals) and really dug into the body horror aspects of the film. That level of detail was refreshing because, usually, reviewers either gloss over those elements or make a quick side joke. To hear the audience engage so directly with the visceral, grotesque elements of Solvent felt like validation for embracing those uncomfortable, raw aspects of the story.

6. When did you realize that you wanted to make films?

It wasn’t a single "aha" moment, but rather a slow accumulation of tiny rebellions. As a teenager, I was hacking together camcorders and creating absurdist little flicks—short films have been a constant throughout my life. But I came to feature-length films relatively late, making my first feature documentary only about 10 years ago. Before that, my creative energy was spread across a range of mediums: interactive media, theater, performance art, and hacking cultural tropes with my art collective monochrom. Filmmaking became the ultimate synthesis of all these influences, letting me explore narrative, technology, absurdity, and politics on a grand scale. And let’s face it: artists just want a pat on the back—but never know what to do with it when they get one.

7. What film have you seen the most in your life?

That’s hard to say! After making Masking Threshold, I was invited by Letterboxd to create a list of films that influenced me. I welcomed the challenge. I am a nerd for "lists." But when I sat down, it was pretty overwhelming. Every movie I’ve ever watched has shaped how I view film and the world. Some films are, for various reasons, enormously present in my memory. Poltergeist, for example, because I first saw it when I was 9, alone on late-night television in our dark living room while my parents and friends had a BBQ outside. I felt I was dying of fear throughout the entire experience. Or RoboCop, because as a 12 year old nerd in a shabby theater in my Austrian hometown, it kindled my interest in politics, technology, and toxic waste that melts your face off. I didn't include those films (and moments) in my compilation because they feel too big and too dominating. I decided instead to choose films that, for whatever biochemical reason, my brain goes back to when it is wandering, digesting, and scheming.

https://letterboxd.com/horrorville/story/johannes-grenzfurthner-the-films-that-inspired/

8. What other elements of the festival experience can we and other festivals implement to satisfy you and help you further your filmmaking career?

I’d love to see festivals embrace more unconventional programming—films that blur genres, push boundaries, or make people deeply uncomfortable in the best way. Offering spaces for filmmakers to connect in informal, chaotic ways—like a drunken roundtable or a "roast your film" session—could be fun.

9. You submitted to the festival via FilmFreeway. How has your experience been working on the festival platform site?

Not too shabby! FilmFreeway feels like an online dating site for filmmakers—it’s streamlined, efficient, and takes a lot of the soul-crushing bureaucracy out of the process. That said, it could use a bit more personality. Imagine rejection emails that came with a personalized insult or a cryptic haiku—it would at least make "thanks but no thanks" a little more fun. Maybe they should lean into the drama of the rejection process—filmmakers are used to theatrics, after all.

10. What is your favorite meal?

Wiener Schnitzel with a side of existential crisis. There’s something comforting about the simplicity of a Schnitzel—especially when paired with a debate about whether the universe is inherently meaningless.
Comfort food!

11. What is next for you? A new film?

There are ideas, definitely. But if I told you, I’d have to lock you into a cellar—the good old Austrian way. Stay tuned, but keep your cellar door locked, just in case.