That nasty little cripple

Human nature at its ugliest. Wild take: Chinese Roulette (1976, Rainer Werner Fassbinder) is a horror movie. Traunitz Manor is a haunted house. What’s one of the most popular subgenres in horror? Evil children. 

     The ghosts who inhabit Traunitz Manor walk among the living yet unbeknownst to us their souls have perished. And like a contagious plague they want to enact revenge on those they bear grudges against by causing the soul death of them as well. ANGELA is the evil youngster in Chinese Roulette. But her true nature creeps up on you. As the film begins she has a supernatural premonition that her parents are lying to her about their weekend plans; all the better to lure them into her demonic trap. 
     After all the guests have assembled and Angela shows up in the night there’s this shot of her governess TRAUNITZ retrieving all of Angela’s dolls from the boot of the Porsche that hint at the little girl’s greedy grubby possessive bent. At first we could never consider the handicapped little girl whom her mother hates as being someone we ourselves could despise. That’s because the little shit Fassbinder is playing us. He starts by deceiving us into feeling sorry for Angela. Like when she asks her brother GABRIEL if he would ever sleep with a cripple. And how she links each of her parents respective affairs with her own ailing health.
     Fassbinder loves to contrast surface appearances with something more sinister. The little girl we felt sorry for turns out to be a monster. Even her and her brother’s names have an angelic quality. (Volker Spengler playing Gabriel has even bleached his hair blonde for this role.) And there are a couple of shots right around the point early on when we may be asking ourselves if Angela is mean-spirited for opening the doors unannounced on each of her adulterous parents outside: a sculpture of Christ crucified followed by a goat’s head rotting infested with maggots. Chaos reigns.
 
Further appearances that prove deceptive involve Angela’s governess. Traunitz not only suggestively winks and makes these come hither gestures to the child, but also Gabriel walks in on that number in the studio where the little kid has a boombox just chillin blasting synth rock as Traunitz does an uninhibited dance with her crutches-braces. Oh and Gabriel has scenes with Traunitz where we discover they’ve been having an illicit affair of their own.
     The two foes at battle are revealed to be mother and daughter. Which is kind of what we’ve been expecting. The climax when Angela’s mom ARIANE (Carstensen) shoots her governess is preceded by Ariane aiming at Angela first. Because for soulless Ariane to extinguish her daughter’s lifeforce by way of exacting revenge in kind she must take what she loves from her; spiritual death. Chain reaction. Human nature hurting others how they themselves have been hurt: Angela confronts her brother for being a hoax writer. That ruins him. Cycle complete. Except I won’t spoilt the final twist.
     I’m gonna go out on a limb here and take a stab at what Fassbinder’s attacking here. I don’t think it’s what we’d assume. His usual. The institution of marriage. I think this time it’s cheating. And the lying that comes with it. But more so harboring resentment over long term against family, loved ones. Like the Ali ben Basset tease. Third Reich war crimes. The aftermath. The toll it takes. Or something.

No Celebration for the Führer’s Dog

Fassbinder’s only comedy. Satan’s Brew (1976, Rainer Werner Fassbinder) could perhaps very loosely be thought of as a roman à clef that derives its humor from poking fun at Fassbinder’s creative persona. Although in the spirit of laughs it plays against type. Which of course could be said for the genre itself; Fassbinder doesn’t make comedies.

     One thing I’ve never mentioned here (because others have already mentioned it so often) is that a big thematic aspect to Fassbinder’s films throughout is the idea of there being two kinds of people: strong and weak. WALTER KRANZ (Raab) makes it a point to outline his artistic ethos and right off explains that he fundamentally sees being one of the strong as justification to exploit ANDRÉE (Carstensen). He also has fans who are devout followers of his artistic style embodying how he puts it “Death is the finest thing in life.” This bit about the death trajectory has got to be an exaggerated riff on how some view Fassbinder’s work.
     There’s also this wealthy woman VON WITZLEBEN who’s Walter’s patron/mistress whom he goes over to have sex with but opens a drawer full of dildoes in her bedroom and finds a gun in then shoots her. Why? There’s no explanation. My guess is that Fassbinder is making fun of gratuitous inciting incidents. Because her murder at least sets up a police investigation. At the very end we find out the gun he shot her with had blanks in it so she’s not really dead. After all the heavy bleak Fassbinder I’ve watched thus far this whole silly light playful way of ending the movie is the kind of break I needed.
     But Walter’s wife LOISE dies. And he mourns her. And his fanboys turn against him because he always preached that death and decay are the goal of life. This not long after Walter stalks his daily prostitute to demand money only to later have the shit beat out of him by her pimp, which caused Andrée to similarly disavow her loyalty to him. Because he really is weak. Faking the whole time. All this points to don’t take the man behind the artist too seriously. At this point I feel like I may have been headed toward being guilty of this myself.
 
Another reach but I think all the stuff about Stefan George is loosely an allusion to Fassbinder channeling Douglas Sirk. Then there’s the rest of the aspects of Walter that are very much the opposite of Fassbinder.
     Like his publisher’s desperate to see something from Walter, frustrated cutting him off because they’ve already floated him so many advances already. Fassbinder made four movies a year. So definitely not like anything about him in real life. Then there’s the gay plotline. When that random casting agent tells Walter (in his Stefan George phase) he’s obviously gay even though he never knew it and he goes cruising a public toilet the punchline we’ll find so hilariously let's just say is against type once again. 
     For all the women Walter is constantly every chance he gets everyday having sex with (everyone except his wife who is angry because it’s been sixteen days since they last did) they all openly admit to him not being that great. This voracious appetite however I do think has something to do with Fassbinder’s public persona. Oh and that line Walter says: “In every act of coitus is there not an element of rape?” surely plays into the little tyrant rep thrown at Fassbinder.
     Even though Satan’s Brew is a comedy unfortunately I don’t feel like I’d wanna rewatch it anytime soon. It can be tedious. There’s pratfalls and a lot of bizarre weirdos. The unhinged performances and that Fassbinder was able to get this out of his system were pretty enjoyable though.

Everybody has worries

Stand-alone masterpiece. Fassbinder working-class downer. I Only Want You to Love Me (1976, Rainer Werner Fassbinder) is an outlier that presents us with a protagonist whose behavior, motives, and psychology’s meanings are withheld from us. And for having a narrative that shifts ahead then flashbacks into intercutting including yet another brief flashback that’s almost hard to discern when it begins. Nor does Fassbinder attack the institution of marriage here. I probably can’t think of another single instance where the humanity that comes across through this couple felt more authentic. These characters don’t feel written. Their internal conflict, their feelings, their reactions, what they chase are profoundly compulsive.

     What is up with this dude and his dad? The main character is excessively peculiar yet simultaneously seems to fit in and function in society, be accepted, and even for the most part well liked. It can be maddening. You always sense something is just slightly off with him but can’t ever quite put your finger on it. At times he seems like a manchild or slightly touched. Simple. In his dungarees and bomber jacket with his daddy issues he always seems like he’s about to go postal. Oh and there’s the fact that the film opens with him committed in some institution that okay it’s prison. The film chooses early on to splice in a couple of jarring quick cuts of the scene of the crime: the guy has bludgeoned his father with a telephone and his mother looks on in the background.
     The narrative is a bit challenging. Those of us accustomed to putting our thinking caps on begin to wonder why the guy is constantly lying to save face yet we glimpse brief instances occurring where he has like a mischievous little kid grin when he runs out of cash and has to call his dad for more money; usually his wife is privy to these. It can be frustrating. The flashback that sneaks up on you well into the film is after the wife tells the guy she’s pregnant we are suddenly in some night exterior on their first date where he’s manic and it turns into him having a tantrum like a little bitch because she won’t sleep with him. His volatility grows into hostility.
     Worth mentioning is one of the best sex scenes ever filmed. Mundane to a tee. Clinical. Cold. They take of their clothes. And in the same frame we see both, one reflected in a mirror, like mannequins. Both standing still. Notice the direction each face. This takes us into a cut that jumps all the way forward after the baby’s born. What else is there to say really? Will we ever know why the guy puts so much pressure on himself to keep buying stuff for his wife to the point they’re always broke and he has to keep working more and more overtime? Or why he disguises a begging trip back to the Bavarian forest to his parents as a legit vacation then doesn’t ask? There is one other way to read this movie.
 
I think the father is meant to represent God the Father. The first hint I got of this was at the end when the guy is in prison being interviewed and he says: “If only I would have called and asked my father for help everything would have been alright. But I wanted to do it all on my own.” That’s what I Only Want You to Love Me is really about. That’s its hidden meaning. If you go back and look at it it all makes sense. But really quick lets backtrack for just a second. There are a couple of intertitles in the film. The first one is “After building the house his parents loved him for exactly two weeks.” (This one is repeated at the end as well.) And also later in the film when he calls to ask his father for money: “The money arrived the next day without a greeting, almost like an insult.” On the surface everyone who watches this will take it as oh no the guy kills his father and tries so hard to earn his parents’ admiration because they never showed him enough love. That’s such a problem in society. Bullshit. 
     It’s the two biggest problems with Christians. With the carnal mind. He thinks he can earn his salvation with works alone. And (this includes non-believers as well) he blames God for ignoring him. Also I haven’t mentioned it until now but what’s the guy’s name? The protagonist? PETER. As in the first apostle chosen by Christ. The film is secretly a tragedy about losing one’s faith in God. Everything that happens to Peter centers on his reluctance then refusal literally to call his father. 
     What’s the first conflict or obstacle that Peter faces? Out of pride he moves to Munich impulsively with a new wife and no job. Some might think his dad is a jerk for selling Peter’s parents’ flat instead of letting his son and daughter in law move in there. But that’s missing something of greater significance: the father offers Peter and ERIKA a place in their new home Peter built—salvation. Then there’s this whole business with doppelgängers. At that party when Peter sees a man he believes is his father he lights up and when it turns out it’s just some stranger Peter gets distraught. Even offended that his wife Erika laughs at him for it. This could be someone shaming someone for believing in God. But the next instance is the man who works in Erika’s grandma’s building. When Peter goes to get that beer from him he becomes frightened. As though the Holy Spirit is manifested and he wants nothing to do with it any longer. This shopkeep doppelgänger is credited as WIRT (or landlord in English).
     The climax of the film and big reveal is that it wasn’t Peter’s father he killed but the landlord. The landlord who Peter mistakes for his father. (The film played a trick on us by having Peter’s mother at the scene of the murder in the flashbacks but in actuality turns out to be some random woman.) Peter wants to call his father but can’t. When the landlord asks him why Peter says he can’t remember the number. Even the landlord admits this is preposterous. This is way before the days of smartphones. As in how do you forget your home telephone number?
     The manslaughter set piece is orchestrated with a few more things we can discern. Like the landlord telling Peter about the rich Jew. We think this triggers a subconscious link to Peter’s resentment of his own Father having too much wealth compared to how Peter thinks he himself doesn’t have enough. Next is the makeout couple in the bar who the landlord says are too old to be going on like that. We think this triggers a subconscious link to Peter’s resentment of his mother outing his father having a sidebitch. Or (now this might be reaching) we might not trust what the mother said entirely. The mother mentions an expensive whore to which the father replies that’s what bothers her so much, that she’s not a whore could be a Christ-Mary Magdelene reference. Finally in walks yet another doppelgänger, this time of Peter himself. 
     The landlord and Peter’s double get into a violent argument that escalates into the landlord yelling at the stranger his kind are worthless and can’t help themselves, which then causes Peter to bludgeon the landlord from behind, killing him. As in we wrestle not against flesh and blood. Remember this isn’t the father, this is a man Peter mistakes to be his father. These words are indicative of the ultimate moral-spiritual paradox that God wants the best for his children. Wants them to be good. And they hate him, criticize, dismiss, blame him for it. 
 
Peter’s final words again include “I thought I could do it all myself.” The most cinematic sequence in the film is when, for reasons not explained, Peter decides to stop going to work. As in he thought he could do it all himself but now cannot. This is an internal dilemma better we’re not given his reasons. The camera from far away shooting him through the train windows underground is existentially haunting. Haunting because the film is telling us he really can’t do it all by himself. And maybe some of us know this to be true for ourselves as well.

Schwarz und Weiß

The third film in AFS's Wim Wenders retrospective I've attended was also the third and final installment of his road movie trilogy.

But sadly I still have only a vague idea of what that label means to me, or specifically how the road movie genre is defined exactly. Apart from these three Wenders movies the only other examples I can think of are Easy Rider (1969, Dennis Hopper), Two-Lane Blacktop (1971, Monte Hellman) Scarecrow (1973, Jerry Schatzberg), Badlands (1973, Terrence Malick) Wild at Heart (1990, David Lynch), My Own Private Idaho (1991, Gus Van Sant), Fear and Loathing In Las Vegas (1998, Terry Gilliam), The Brown Bunny (2003, Vincent Gallo) and Prince Avalanche (2012, David Gordon Green).

Although I do love the variety of life experiences the genre's loose structure allows, the beautiful nature, rural and urban scenes photographed, and for the most part lack of a burdensome sense of plot getting in the way of the feeling of freestyle filmmaking. And the cool music.

Im Lauf der Zeit (1976, Wim Wenders) opens with intertitles telling us, in German, that the film was shot in black and white, at 1.66:1, and uses production sound. Last night I again, after last Friday's Falsche Bewegung (1975, Wenders) found myself spending Friday night watching a slow paced, Robby Müller shot, Wenders Road Movie and lost myself in another world. Except this time the movie was 3 hours, but no seriously it flew by.

Like Alice in den Städten (1974, Wenders) and Falsche Bewegung, the film stars Rüdiger Vogler. Vogler as the main character for the third time really has sealed my love of his work as an actor in these. This time he drives a bus that houses his mobile film mechanic shop, stopping in German towns to repair projectors in theaters. Vogler plays a character called BRUNO WINTER and encounters ROBERT LANDER (Hanns Zischler) at the beginning of the film in a sequence that builds up parallel editing of shots of Bruno parked in his bus out in the countryside getting ready to shave with shots of Robert speeding recklessly through city streets in his VW bug. Their first meeting is a wonderful collision both visually and figuratively.

Robby Müller's cinematography is again the highlight of the show. Shot on Orwo black and white 35mm, wide panning epic vistas of beautiful countryside, wonderful textures of paint chipped structures, and elegant gradients of shadows and light playing on the subjects are everywhere. And plenty of driving shots. The night exterior tracking the motorcycle through the country roads as we see a lightning bolt striking beyond in the horizon had me smiling.

Of all the trilogy Im Lauf der Zeit is the one that had me laughing out loud. Mostly it was shock laughter, as there are a few gags that arise out of graphic depictions of some bodily functions I'm definitely not used to seeing in a movie. Or when Bruno at the bumper cars ticket gate and a woman played by Lisa Kreuzer (Alice's mom in Alice in den Städten) shows up and asks for a light for her Hitler head candle completely deadpan.

Im Lauf der Zeit is really relaxing. It just feels like as long as you're in for the ride who cares about the usual priorities like plot, and an over arching theme. It's all character development and like being on vacation.

Among the later stops the duo make, the abandoned GI post recalls the candle light shack scene in The Grapes of Wrath (1940, John Ford) that Gregg Toland shot. In Alice in den Städten there was a scene in the motel the Vogler character stops in where he watches a scene from Young Mr. Lincoln (1939, Ford) along with a scene towards the end where the same character clips an obituary column of Ford titled "Lost World." And Im Lauf der Zeit has another scene where Bruno is on his truck and clips a photo from a film journal showing Ford on the set of Mogambo (1953, Ford) it looks like. So what's to be made of all this? What's the link, the reason for these references? People of the earth? Slower paced, tales set in the countryside with vast horizons and big skies? The black and white film?

Paper Moon was made by Peter Bogdanovich and released in 1973, the year before Alice in den Städten and has a shot where Ryan and Tatum O'Neil play characters eating in a diner where outside through the window a marquee can be seen that advertises Steamboat Round the Bend (1935, Ford) as its featured attraction. And Paper Moon is also shot in black and white and mostly rural. I don't know what point I'm trying to make with this, but it's impossible not to think of ADDIE when you see ALICE. I mean I'm not trying to imply anything negative about this link, if you can even call it that. Just speculating. Maybe I'm just trying to show off my memory or observation skills?

But okay, since I've already started down this road, there's also a moment in Im Lauf der Zeit when Bruno and Robert are talking about passing through the towns of Powerless and Peaceless. They mention that in between both towns is a mountain called Dead Man. Robby Müller went on to shoot Dead Man (1995, Jim Jarmusch). And Dead Man feels like a road movie for sure; also there's a shot in Im Lauf der Zeit of a symmetric 1 point perspective down a town's thoroughfare with a large tall building weighing the center in the background, just like the shot in Dead Man of the city of Machine with the smokestack; also there's a CU of the van's wheel spinning in Im Lauf der Zeit that looks and feel like the CUs of the train's wheels in Dead Man.

Apologies if anyone was expecting anything in-depth but this time here I just felt like writing a journal entry of a movie I really loved.

--Dregs