“You just fell for his suicidal romanticism,” one character chides another in “Nocturne,” a critique that also applies to Riccardo Signorell’s (“Scheherezade”) soph feature as a whole. Meandering tale of a man who plans to take his own life at an Alpine resort, dismaying his brother and latter’s girlfriend, provides too little psychological insight and too much arty, angst-for-angst’s sake posturing. Only old school artpic snobs for whom B&W lensing, pregnant silences, Nietzsche quotes, and umpteen cigarettes smoked equal profundity will want to take this trip.
Brooding, perennially five-o-clock-shadowed David (Martin Rapold) has installed himself in a five-star luxury hotel (real-life Waldhaus Sils-Maria, near St. Moritz), intending to off himself when his money runs out. You might think why would be of paramount dramatic importance. But Signorell, who developed script largely on-site through the actors’ improvisations — and it shows — prefers to keep vulgar specifics of backstory, psychological motivation, et al. cryptic. Instead, very little is revealed as David acts dingy, younger brother Gian (actual sib Patrick Rapold) expresses get-a-life exasperation, and g.f. Valeria (Lisa Maria Potthoff) wrings her hands. Perfs are OK under circumstances.