Another Fassbinder masterpiece. The one most important because no one other than him could make it. The one he was born to make. The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant (1972, Rainer Werner Fassbinder) is an emotional boudoir abattoir that says everything there is to say about love in 2 hours. Its theme is being crazy about someone.
The plot structure consists of girl meets girl, girl gets girl, girl loses girl. PETRA (Margit Carstensen) is infatuated with KARIN THIMM (Schygulla). There are those who see love through a practical understanding. Not me. I’m pathological. I see love as a passionate violent volatile fire that engulfs destroys dies. And The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant treads the thin line between love and mental illness. Occurring shortly after the meet-cute Karin says she likes movies about passion and sorrow. The first half of this film is passion. And the second half is sorrow. The midpoint is devastatingly sad. When Petra has begun hooking up with Karin the other shoe drops. Karin drops out of college because she can leech of her new sugar mommy. There’s this callback to an earlier conversation the two had about sports and discipline. Karin gives up on showing a disciplined approach to anything anymore. She quits making any type of effort. And she’s vindictive. Spiteful. She taunts Petra incessantly and enjoys it. Petra wants Karin 24 hours a day as a plaything. And this is what sets up the moral. This is indicative of the nature of infatuation. Limerence. The film shows how stupid telling someone you love them is. How hollow. Empty. How those words are convenient placeholders for either possessive desire or manipulation. The difference between unrequited and unattainable. It’s excruciatingly poignant that the first time Karin reciprocates an I love you is when Petra shows her her picture in the paper—and we know it’s so fake. Yet Petra does not.
There’s some strong imagery. First what’s up with the image system of lifeless human figures? MARLENE (Irm Hermann) exists in what’s symbolic of a mausoleum surrounded by all those mannequins. Marlene does not speak one word throughout the entire movie. This invariably represents both the eventual fate of an object of desire as either possession or lifeless.
When SIDONIE has the audacity to get Petra that doll that looks just like Karin for her birthday. The humiliation arises out of Petra’s acknowledgment as she’s forced to confront the truth that she really wanted Karin as a doll. And who doesn’t? Someone there when you get home. Someone you can cuddle in bed with. A fuck object. A pretty little thing you picked out that corresponds to your innate standards of beauty. It’s shamefully constructively intuitively insightful. Emotionally ignorant.
The art on her bedroom wall tells us Petra worships the human form as divine. Specifically flesh. Curves. Exposed forms in repose, contortions posed ideally as aesthetically gratifying. It’s not just because she’s horny. Her intellect is slave to her body. Her need for Karin is torture because Petra knows she is no good for her. Petra spitting in Karin’s face after calling her a rotten little whore is the highpoint of the film’s provocation. Which of course she’s right. But Petra fails to listen to reason and instead succumbs to her emotions. She’s desperate to get the rotten little whore back to the point nothing else in life means anything to her. And I’ve always felt this very condition best expressed cinematically in a shot of someone alone in a room doing nothing other than waiting for the phone to ring. That shot belongs in the emotional dictionary of images. Since days of yore. I’d always associated it with Audition (1999, Takashi Miike) but forgot it’s the depiction of Petra's lowest point in The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant. No furniture is crucial to the psychology of the scene in Fassbinder’s version.
There’s some strong imagery. First what’s up with the image system of lifeless human figures? MARLENE (Irm Hermann) exists in what’s symbolic of a mausoleum surrounded by all those mannequins. Marlene does not speak one word throughout the entire movie. This invariably represents both the eventual fate of an object of desire as either possession or lifeless.
When SIDONIE has the audacity to get Petra that doll that looks just like Karin for her birthday. The humiliation arises out of Petra’s acknowledgment as she’s forced to confront the truth that she really wanted Karin as a doll. And who doesn’t? Someone there when you get home. Someone you can cuddle in bed with. A fuck object. A pretty little thing you picked out that corresponds to your innate standards of beauty. It’s shamefully constructively intuitively insightful. Emotionally ignorant.
The art on her bedroom wall tells us Petra worships the human form as divine. Specifically flesh. Curves. Exposed forms in repose, contortions posed ideally as aesthetically gratifying. It’s not just because she’s horny. Her intellect is slave to her body. Her need for Karin is torture because Petra knows she is no good for her. Petra spitting in Karin’s face after calling her a rotten little whore is the highpoint of the film’s provocation. Which of course she’s right. But Petra fails to listen to reason and instead succumbs to her emotions. She’s desperate to get the rotten little whore back to the point nothing else in life means anything to her. And I’ve always felt this very condition best expressed cinematically in a shot of someone alone in a room doing nothing other than waiting for the phone to ring. That shot belongs in the emotional dictionary of images. Since days of yore. I’d always associated it with Audition (1999, Takashi Miike) but forgot it’s the depiction of Petra's lowest point in The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant. No furniture is crucial to the psychology of the scene in Fassbinder’s version.
The toughest one is Marlene through the window. Early in the film we get that shot of Marlene in aguish touching the window in Petra’s apartment as Petra tells Sidonie about how her marriage fizzled out. Here Marlene is in the foreground. We’re with her. Petra is beyond—deep background. Distant. So we’re meant to identify if not empathize with Marlene suffering while Petra talks about the power shift in her marriage. As if once Marlene was a partner to Petra in a way and is now no longer treated as human.
But way later when Petra gets the Karin doll their positions have exchanged planes. Marlene is distant background imprisoned beyond glass walls witnessing Petra now spiritually broken in front of us. We’re with Petra now no longer Marlene. Fassbinder wants us to empathize with the damaged souls.
Just like the lyrics to “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” tells us what the first half of the movie means, the end of the movie can be understood by the lyrics to “The Great Pretender.” Both by The Platters. The ending isn’t your average movie conclusion that provides an adequate sense of closure and wrap things up in a satisfying way. The ending of The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant fits more closely into the principles of drama. It challenges you to make sense of it instead of providing you with an easy unambiguous explanation.
Why does Malene leave? Because Petra’s full of shit. For all the abuse and mistreatment of Marlene, Petra nevertheless was honest with her. Let her into her most inner private life unvarnished unfiltered. That’s love. Like that exchange after Karin crushes Petra, do you want the truth or do you want me to lie and tell you a story to make you feel good? When Petra acts like she’s over Karin and asks Marlene to tell her about herself she’s pretending. She’s no longer herself. Fassbinder is telling us that’s when you lose everything.
No longer wanting to live because your lust object broke your heart is okay. But lying to everyone and acting like everything is fine when it’s not is the real death. Cutting yourself off from your feelings is cutting yourself off from life. It’s all figurative. When Marlene shuts off the lights that’s when it’s time for us to start asking ourselves which is worse?
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