Rainer Werner Fassbinder

  • Angst essen Seele auf [Ali: Fear Eats the Soul] (1974)

    (On Cable TV, June 2022) I wouldn’t dare criticize a filmmaker for wanting to do a Douglas Sirk-style melodrama if that’s what catches their creative fancy. But Sirk-style melodramas aren’t to everyone’s taste, and once you’re past the initial shock of recognition that, yes, this is what writer-director-producer Rainer Werner Fassbinder is going for in Ali: Fear Eats the Soul, the film goes into very familiar territory. This intergenerational, interethnic romance between an older German woman and a Middle Eastern man hits most of the expected plot points – familiar disapproval (featuring Fassbinder himself as a surly bigot), social ostracism, cultural differences, jabs from outsiders not understanding what’s going on, and self-doubts. The only suspense here is whether love will prevail, and that’s not necessarily a given, since Fassbinder goes for his usual morose style throughout the film. The cinematography clearly aspires to gritty realism, something reinforced by the working-class surroundings and naturalistic acting. The film was reportedly shot in two weeks as an in-between project between two other bigger films and you can feel the go-for-broke energy of how it’s slapped together. Fassbinder fans will probably like it – Ali: Fear Eats the Soul is very well-regarded in general, and among Fassbinder’s filmography as well but for those who may not like the German director’s approach, there won’t be anything here to flip them over.

  • Händler der vier Jahreszeiten [The Merchant of Four Seasons] (1972)

    (On Cable TV, May 2022) Ugh, Rainer Werner Fassbinder.  I’ll watch his films to complete his filmography, but I’m not promising that I’ll enjoy them. While I did like The Merchant of Four Seasons more than usual for his films, it was often out of a sense of fascination for the weird choices he makes throughout it all. The story of a fruit cart merchant who struggles to provide for his family soon spins into melodramatic extremes as he beats his wife, she cheats on him, he ends up hiring the man who slept with her, both of them start plotting against our protagonist, and things escalate from there. It’s filled with curious filmmaking choices– even allowing for the restrained nature of German films, the actors here seem content in delivering flat line-readings in what could appear like a parody of melodramatic acting. In other words, while I found something interesting in The Merchant of Four Seasons, it was a sense of fascination with how it was turning out than any real immersion in the film’s reality. Compared to my flatter-than-flat reaction to other Fassbinder films, that’s almost an improvement.

  • Liebe ist kälter als der Tod [Love is Colder than Death] (1969)

    Liebe ist kälter als der Tod [Love is Colder than Death] (1969)

    (On Cable TV, November 2021) Oh well. It looks as if I’m going to have to add Rainer Werner Fassbinder to my list of writers-directors that are formally interesting, but not particularly fun to watch. Love is Colder than Death, his debut film, is often mentioned as part of New German Cinema and is clearly reminiscent of other New Waves across the globe:  The bare bones of the story are a blend of romance and crime elements, but it’s the execution that sets the film apart — in this case stark black-and-white, with moments of sparse cinematography: actors shot against a pure white background, or an uninterrupted camera following petty criminals as they shop and shoplift in a supermarket. Violence is used in between tepidly paced romantic twist and turns — clearly the kind of film debut meant to impress by a responsible use of a limited budget, simple genre elements and an overall artistic vision. Love is Colder than Death is not uninteresting, but I gather that it’s more interesting to Fassbinder devotees or students of the various New Waves of cinema across the globe.

  • Welt am Draht [World on a Wire] (1973)

    (On Cable TV, March 2021) Now here’s a fascinating find — I used to fancy myself a Science-Fiction buff (considering that I was reviewing SF movies professionally), but even I was surprised to learn of World on a Wire’s existence as a proto-cyberpunk film dealing with ideas of simulated characters breaking out of their computerized existence. Better yet: It’s adapted from Daniel F. Galouye’s novel Simulatron-3, which also led to the 1999 American film The Thirteenth Floor. Digging deeper in the film’s production history (how could I have missed such a film??), things became a bit clearer: Broadcast on German TV in 1973 as a two-part miniseries, the film remained mostly inaccessible to English-language audiences until restored edition showings in 2010 and then a Criterion edition in 2012, a year after I started losing touch with the SF field. Still, it does remain a major find — directed by film legend Rainer Werner Fassbinder (his only SF work), the film is clearly a methodical, intellectual piece of work: It’s all about ideas and characters, shot with an overabundance of chrome, mirrors and glass. There’s an intention here to deal with futuristic topics that would only slide in the mainstream twenty-five years later, and the cinematography (despite obvious TV-schedule limitations) clearly goes for something deliberate. Of course, we’re grading on a historical scale when it comes to discussing ideas — for the film’s interminable 204-minute running time, it spends a lot of energy setting up a now-obvious revelation (“We’re living in a simulation!”) in time for the cliffhanger ending of the first episode. It’s not a story told efficiently — there are numerous useless digressions that an experienced editor could have cut out (but probably didn’t due to contractual length obligations) and the moment-by-moment pacing of the film is severely lacking. Dozens of other Science Fiction movies and miniseries have done much, much better than World on a Wire in terms of pacing, efficiency, ideas and effectiveness — but you can draw a straight line from World on a Wire to Westworld, and 1973 is remarkably early to be talking about computer simulations of real humans. I suspect that there’s an entire dimension to the film that I don’t get, not quite knowing what was normal in 1973 Germany — it may be that the film is filled with clever deviations from then-reality that I’m ill-equipped to grasp. I’ll also admit that the leisurely running time and laborious presentation of its ideas can be exasperating at times. Still, I count the result as essential viewing for anyone interested in the history of SF cinema — especially if you’re already very familiar with its later heirs.

  • Die Sehnsucht der Veronika Voss [Veronika Voss] (1982)

    Die Sehnsucht der Veronika Voss [Veronika Voss] (1982)

    (On Cable TV, May 2020) I had to make my way to Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s filmography at one point or another, despite my misgivings about engaging with a filmmaker often described as dour and depressing. At least I’m getting representative work with Veronika Voss, as it tracks the downfall of a former actress with a Nazi past against the backdrop of 1955 Berlin. Add a sports journalist as confidante and lover, as well as a devious neurologist as antagonist and, in theory, you have the ingredients of a good thriller. Alas, this should have been quite a bit better. The pacing is deathly dull and there’s little propulsive narrative drive to it all. This being said, there are a few touches of directing that I liked—unusual screen transitions, and a striking use of black-and-white aesthetics: in a few scenes, our protagonist is the only dark shape in mostly-white environments, clearly highlighting how out of place he is. Still, I found Veronika Voss unnecessarily long, even at less than two hours, and making little use out of promising plot elements.