... Viennese youths, rebels without a motive, in front of a wet wall, graffiti spray in action... speed and emphasis: running through the city and the night, dancing drunkenly somewhere on a roof. The camera and the soundtrack conspire so that everything, including picture and sound is pushed out of balance. A piece of realism, as far as one can be realistic in the cinema; an intentional formlessness. Concrete Flowers talks about the predictable failure of every relationship which, with its origins in disillusion and vague searches for things, attempts to satisfy for longer than a few moments, longer than a blues number or a fix.
In the end, the new life, the always-hoped-for better life, is but a hidden pop song which someone recites unbidden. (Stefan Grissemann)