In mid-19th century Germany, Jakob (Jan Dieter Schneide) lives in the village of Schabbach with father, Johann (Ruediger Kriese), mother, Margarethe (Marita Breuer) and brother, Gustav (Maximilian Scheidt). He and his impoverished family's only hope to escape their poverty is to emigrate from Schabbach to Brazil, the land of opportunity. While Jakob educates himself about life in the South American jungles by reading, he flirts with a local girl, Henriette (Antonia Bill), who catches his attention. The events that transpire after Gustav returns home from the war and Jakob gets sent to prison for sedition profoundly affect the dynamics between Jakob and his family.

      Writer/director Edgar Reitz and co-writer Gert Heidenreich trust your intelligence and patience as an audience member because they unravel the plot in a leisurely pace with plenty of quietly powerful moments and an interesting use of symbolism. If you're patient, you will be rewarded with a character-driven story that's thoroughly spellbinding because you'll find yourself emotionally invested in the characters' lives from start to finish while waiting in suspense for whatever happens to them next. It's equivalent to the feeling you experience while reading a good page-turner that becomes increasingly interesting, complex and quietly suspenseful the more you read it.

      Aesthetically speaking, the black-and-white cinematography (with occasionally glimpses of color) looks absolutely stunning and makes the film a must-see on the big screen so that you can truly appreciate the images in all of their glory. Many shots are simply breathtaking in their beauty and lyricism. It's safe to say that nature as well as human nature serve as important roles in the film, and Reitz does a great job of capturing the essence of both. Part of how he captures he essence of human nature is through the smart casting of talented actors, many of whom (i.e. Jan Dieter Schneide) have no prior acting experience, surprisingly. Everyone onscreen gives a very natural performance that hooks you in because it's brimming with humanism, a truly special effect (unlike CGI which should be called "standard effects"). There's not a single weak link among all of the performances, even those in the smaller roles. Each of them is an integral part of the delicate tapestry. Home from Home's greatest triumph, though, is that it feels epic in scope while intimate in its humanism at the same time. It's no hyperbole to call it the first masterpiece of 2015. Rarely has a nearly 4-hour running time passed by so quickly. I could have watched 4 more hours.