Disappointment and suppressed rage hang over The Audition like a gelid fog. Director Ina Weisse has crafted a refined film showcasing a standout performance by Nina Hoss, but a work this bleak can be hard going. We move through the film cautiously, as though stumbling in the dark.

Anna (Hoss) is a teacher at a Berlin conservatory. When an awkward teenager, Alexander (Ilja Monti), underperforms in a tryout for a place at the school, Anna impulsively decides to take him on as a student in preparation for a major competition. Anna’s own emotional needs and frustrated creativity underpin this ostensibly generous gesture. The film gives us a wordless sense of the teacher’s latent frustration early on with recurring shots of her restless figure bobbing in and out of trams, doorways, her bourgeois home, and the classroom, seemingly caught in a cycle of busy futility. A set piece in a restaurant where Anna frantically changes her mind about where to sit, what to drink, and her entrée choice, to the silent bemusement of her husband, Philippe (Simon Abkarian), offers further clues to an agitated state. Audition’s story line will only ratchet up the distress from there.

Anna’s preoccupation with her student’s performance quickly turns into an obsession, stirring up resentment from Philippe and jealousy from her young son, Jonas (Serafin Mishiev). To add to the percolating anxiety, Anna is having an affair with a fellow musician, a betrayal of which her husband seems balefully aware. When this liaison leads to an ill-advised foray onto the concert stage for Anna, we catch a glimpse of the inner conflict that motivates her so strongly to push Alexander to greatness. Problem is, the student may not be up to it. A painful scene where Anna violates the boy’s physical space adds an element of shock to a scenario where tensions have only lurked beneath the surface.

Stifled in her marriage, thwarted in her career, stymied as a mother, and not even thrilled by any extramarital canoodling, Anna could be a Bergmanesque heroine. But her angst is too obviously rooted in her pride and circumstances to make her mental state more potentially intriguing. Hoss approaches Anna with nuanced intelligence, but one gets the sense that this often bold and physical actress may feel constrained by a character living very much in her own head.

The Audition ends with a harsh, tragic coda that may surprise some. Others will not be confounded, given the grimness that has ground on up to this point. An emotional lie, smoothly and opportunistically skated over, leaves an even greater sense of discomfort. It feels just right for a film haunted by secrets.