Showing posts with label German Cinema. Show all posts
Showing posts with label German Cinema. Show all posts

Thursday, 28 May 2026

At the German Film Festival - Janice Tong reviews SOUND OF FALLING (Mascha Schilinski, 2025)

An Impression: That Quiet Fever of Girlhood

 

        The white noise in my ear tells me I’m alive. In noticing this, I also notice my                 stoic fear of impending death, when the sound of falling stills. We are fragile as         flowers.

 

        The harvester is blind to all that lies in the hay, there is no pathway in or out. The         doe sleeps the sleep of the just. The advancing future, this noise that is blinding.

 

        The white noise in my ear rings out in the night, amplified ten times in a string of         white nights. Nights without rest…this baffling call to whiteness.

 

        We are conditioned to fall, gravity (a weak force) keeps our feet to the ground,             pulling us downwards. The elevator of life – a mesmerising slow descent.  

 

In Mascha Schilinski’s film, Sound of Falling, the German title In die Sonne schauen literally means ‘gazing at the sun’, – we feel the after effects: to be blinded by its whiteness, momentarily, involuntarily. – The film is a poetic tapestry of memory fragments across multiple points of view, of four intergenerational families in the same rural farmhouse in Saxony-Anhalt in northeastern Germany, across four time periods, 1910s, 1940s, 1980s, and 2020s.


Alma (Hanna Heckt)

Alma (a prize-worthy performance from the young Hanna Heckt) is the seven year old narrator from 1910. She lives with her sisters Lia, Hedda, and Gerti, and brother Fritz. They live in this big farmhouse with cooks and maid servants, farm hands too. The scene where Alma plays at being her ‘dead self’, after seeing a photo of her doppelganger on the mantelpiece: that girl also had the same name, who appeared uncannily to be wearing the same black dress that their mother, Emma, had carefully picked out for the narrator Alma for a special feast day – the Day of the Dead, is nothing short of ingenious. 

 

Seventeen year old Erika (Lea Drinda) from 1940 is the niece of Fritz. She wanders around the largely empty house on crutches with her own good left leg strapped up, a fetishistic fantasy of her amputee bed-ridden uncle, showing an unfettered glimpse of female desire, a dare one sets oneself. She steals into his room, dips her finger into the pool of sweat from his bellybutton and tastes it. 

 

Irm (Claudia Geisler-Bading), Erika’s sister, is Angelika’s mother, an awkward woman in her late 50s; who ‘does not know when to laugh’. Angelika is the voice from the 1980s. She, at sixteen, has an allure and carefreeness that reminded me of Christina Ricci’s character in Buffalo 66 (1998). Lena Urzendowsky’s portrayal is remarkable (in fact, all the child actors in this film are brilliant and affecting) – she has discovered the power of her body, a body that can hold the gaze of another, especially that of men, regardless whether they are her cousin (Florian Geißelmann) or uncle (Konstantin Lindhorst). 

 

Unlike Angelika, Laeni Geiseler’s Lenka, a twelve year old from the 2020s, also experiences the male gaze, but an unwanted one, from her father’s friend on a summer’s day under the water sprinkler. Her sister Nelly (Zoë Baier) at five years of age, often feels left out, and readily imagines her own end. Their mother, Christa (Luise Heyer) on the other hand, is a modern woman, one who knocks down the hundred year old chimney stove with a sledgehammer. Is this her way to start their own story afresh? Yet Lenka’s navigation of her own life changes when she meets an angst-filled teenage neighbour, Kaya (Ninel Geiger) who bears a remarkable resemblance to Angelika, who has just lost her own mother. 

 

Lenka (Laeni Geiseler)

Throughout the characters' voice overs, we learn a lot about their feelings, their interior world, whether they are just describing a scene, or explaining how they are trying to make sense of what they have seen or heard – there is an underscore of violence, of threat, across all of their accounts. 

 

Their story is sprung in a temporal labyrinthine maze, the structure of which, unlike a physical labyrinth, weaves you in and out of time. Remembering that a maze is constructed with side paths and dead ends too: there are no easy answers to the life that we lead. We just struggle on the best we can, turn back from the dead ends, cheat and climb over the hedgerows if we dare. But the red thread that binds these epochs nonetheless gets loosened once it’s been pulled. 

 

The idea of letting go. The seen and unseen. The blind bind. 

 

This film masterfully builds narrative as in a dream. A catalogue of moments in time: what a family chooses to speak about, the surface of it, dressing it up for ‘outsiders’, and what gets hidden and buried, the rituals, or those unexplainable private thoughts. Schilinski, working with husband cinematographer Fabian Gamper, has created a chimeric daydream. 

 

We slip into that quiet fever of girlhood. 

 

Phantom pains from a limb that is no longer there. ‘Pretty strange that something can still hurt, even when it’s not there anymore.’ Alma says of Fritz’s cries after he had his leg amputated.

 

The sullen, moody years I also lived as a girl discovering the world, and the allure of a continent that is not yours – but another’s body, another’s mind. And the sad realisation, of the impossibility to bridge the two worlds.

 

To look there, back into those memories, those blinded moments, to feel the actual weight of the emotion as you did then: a momentary revulsion, or the first blush recognition of the male gaze, the power of your own body, an embarrassment, or an unnameable desire. 

 

Erika (Lea Drinda)

Nothing about the world is certain, but only that the world is damaged and beautiful at the same time. These traces are the only evidence of our existence. 

 

Even when we ‘see’ our own ghosts – the dead Alma on the velvet settee; Lia’s sewn-opened eyes on a similarly upholstered chair; Alma’s about face turn to look into camera; the fly that crawls into the mouth of their deceased younger brother up on the hayloft; to Angelika’s ghostly disappearance captured in mid-flight at the edge of the Polaroid, a floating blur peeling away from the rest of her family; the story of eels and drowning; Erika’s disappearance and dead mothers; a river that divides the east and the west; what remains hidden, or seen through peepholes and glimpsed in the cracks between the timber: incest, girls being sold by their families as maids, then sterilised just to be ‘visited by men lining up outside her door at night’, the ‘work accident’ of Fritz – speak of suicides, and the pull of death. What it means to live in a patriarchal world, and its socially accepted mistreatment of girls. The camera cannot help but loop back round to all the haunted places, the kitchen, bedroom, hayloft, field, and riverbank. 

 

Could the sound of Alma’s hand falling repeatedly on her lap as she ‘plays at being dead’ be the beat that precedes an ultimate action? That dull thud, like the ache of a beating heart. The down beat before take off. Before that hammer blow. The first measure of a life to be lived.

Saturday, 16 August 2025

WRITING ABOUT THE CINEMA - A recommendation for THE DIRECTOR by Daniel Kehlman


G W Pabst was, for a decade or so through the late silent period and into the early sound period, held in the highest esteem. His silent films still get attention today, most especially the two films he made in 1929 with Louise Brooks Pandora's Box and Diary of a Lost Girl.  and there is the curiosity of The White Hell of Pitz Palu, co-directed with Arnold Fanck and starring Leni Riefenstahl. His first three sound films Westfront 1918, The Threepenny Opera and Kameradschaft are still available in splendid Criterion editions (as is Pandora's Box).

G W Pabst

In 1934 he had gone to Hollywood but his only American film A Modern Hero was a flop and he headed back to Europe partly to take care of his sick mother. He was trapped in Nazi Germany when war broke out and made two films The Comedians (1941) and Paracelsus (1943). The latter film was of sufficient interest that it was released in New York in 1974, seven years after Pabst's death, for some limited screenings. It actually attracted a review by Vincent Canby in The New York Times who advised "Paracelsus," considering when it was made (1943) and under what conditions, is a remarkably interesting film, though full of not especially well disguised propaganda".

Daniel Kehlman's novel about Pabst's life and work, "The Director", focuses mostly on the other film that Pabst may or may not have made during WW2. Wikipedia gives a succinct summary: "The Molander Case (German: Der Fall Molander) is a 1945 German drama film directed by Georg Wilhelm Pabst. The movie is based on the novel Die Sternengeige by Alfred Karrasch. On August 28, 1944, Pabst started shooting the movie for Terra Film.[1] As shooting had just been completed at the Barrandov Studios in Prague and editing had already begun, Prague was liberated by the Red Army and Pabst was forced to abandon the work. The film is considered lost."

Which gives Kehlman a lot of room to speculate on the conditions of production and the rambunctious nature of Pabst's private life at the time when the film was being made. He also speculates that Pabst never got over making two films, and possibly having a brief affair, with Louise Brooks. He also surmises that Brooks had no time at all for Pabst when he got to Hollywood.

Whether or not Kehlman invented the use of concentration camp inmates as extras and whether the story of the efforts to get the film to a safe place are in any way authentic, it's a rattling good read and has deservedly got a lot of serious critical attention.  This includes an adulatory review by Peter Craven, which is likely behind a paywall, in the Melbourne Age.

Louise Brooks, Pandora's Box

It makes me want to have a look especially at those early thirties sound films.
The Threepenny Opera will be for starters. 

Thursday, 3 July 2025

IN PARIS - At the Champo on rue des Ecoles - Ghost stories - Random Restorations of films by Dino Risi and Fritz Lang

Romy Schneider, Marcello Mastroianni, Fantasma d'Amore

A selection of films featuring Marcello Mastroianni screening at Le Champo in rue des Ecoles revealed a host of titles seen plus one totally unknown, Fantasma d'Amore (Ghost of Love) made in 1981 by Dino Risi, somewhat out of character for a director whose forte is comedy and speedy narratives. Mastroianni plays an academic of some kind whose orderly life is interrupted by a woman (Romy Schneider) who races after a bus he usually doesn't take and then keeps turning up in his life. She's a former lover and he slowly becomes entranced with her all over again. Except she's not what he and at first we think she is...he is summoning up a ghost of a relationship and getting deeper and deeper into the fantasy.... Its formulaic and seems to be some sort of derivative of Dont Look Now. A quick check of the internet reveals that the film seems to have disappeared after its first release but now, after a superb restoration, it may be getting some recognition via Mastroianni tribute seasons. 


The Testament of Dr Mabuse
was Fritz Lang's second crack at Mabuse and Le Champo is screening a superb digital copy with both astonishingly good picture and sound. A title in German only at the start of the film explained I think the various iterations of the film's duration, 3300 metres+ when it premiered in Budapest. An excision of 500 metres or so shortly thereafter and the length of  the reconstructed version. I think. Released in 1933 it resurrects Mabuse as a ghost able to malignantly influence the course of human history by unleashing sheer terror on the population. I think. There are so many character strands that connecting the dots is a bit difficult. It was the last film Lang made in Germany before his exit for safer pastures first in France for Liliom and then on to the States for the next two decades. Le Champo is screening the film as part of a German Expressionism season alongside The Blue Angel, The Cabinet of Dr Caligari, Pandora's Box, M and Metropolis. 

Wednesday, 11 June 2025

At the Sydney Film Festival - Happy family movies - WHAT DOES THAT NATURE SAY TO YOU (Hong Sang-soo, South Korea, 2025) & MIRRORS NO. 3 (Christian Petzold, German, 2025)

Ha Song-guk, Kang So-yi, What Does That Nature Say To You

The last Hong Sang-soo film I saw was titled in water. Note no caps. The film was screened at the Sydney Film Festival in 2023 but I saw it last year at the Reflet Medicis cinema in Paris, along with a handful of others at a morning session. Hong has made over thirty features and I guess over the years I may have seen about half of them, most often as a result of Tony Rayns selecting them when he programmed the wonderful Dragons and Tigers section of the Vancouver Film Festival. 

In water is a film which requires some advance knowledge before sitting down to watch it. I didn’t have any of that advance knowledge beyond Hong’s name and thus it was that after watching it for maybe forty minutes I’d had enough and got up and left. If my French had been up to the task I would have complained to the management that the film was out of focus throughout. Close and medium shots had some clarity. Long shots were a blur. When I mentioned this to a Korean film aficionado later I was somewhat taken aback to be told that the out of focus visuals were in fact the director’s intention. Wikipedia filled in this lack of information when it advised that “Hong opted to shoot In Water mostly out of focus to reflect the main character’s creative block.” Right. How brilliant. That wasn't the explanation given by my Korean film aficionado but well...

The SFF program notes for Hong’s latest film What Does That Nature Say to You didn’t mention any similar such hurdles, describing the film as “the latest witty and incisive drama by Korean indie auteur Hong Sang Soo (in water, SFF 2023) Berlin Competition , 2025)” and “especially illuminating and rich in charming humour”. Not quite what I saw but interesting enough once you get over Hong’s slow boil of story line which leads to the fateful evening when a thirty-ish woman brings home her boyfriend of three years to finally meet her parents and the parents seemingly  effortlessly get him into a drunken shouting mood. It dissipates next day when he leaves and there is what a  critic might call an enigmatic ending involving a flat tyre.

Paula Beer, Mirrors No. 3

Christian Petzold has been a festival favourite for a decade and a half. He’s also big into enigma and never more so than in his Mirrors No.3. The program notes tell us something entirely unclear from the film itself. “Named for the third movement of a suite for solo piano composed by Maurice Ravel, Mirrors No.3 “(or as it appears on the screen, Miroirs No. 3, but wait for it) “is a beguiling exploration of loss, healing and how to confront the past to move forward, told in Petzold’s signature elegant style.” Analyse that. Actually I thought for a long stretch the film was somewhat Highsmithian – a chance introduction of two characters, one clings to the other and slowly we work out why the other is prepared to let this happen. Then in one outburst an unknown truth is revealed. But here no one gets murdered and some of the participants are happier than when the film began…and we have some musical elements to contend with. I assume, because I didn’t notice it in the credits, that the final piano recital  is the titular suite by Ravel…

Tuesday, 20 August 2024

Sixty Years of International Art Cinema 1960-2020 - Bruce Hodsdon continues his series - 6 (30) Straub and Huillet : “Landscapes of Resistance”

Danièle Huillet, Jean-Marie Straub 

Jean-Marie Straub (1933-2022) and Danièle Huillet (1936-2006) are relatively rare examples of international filmmakers in the sense that they have embedded their filmmaking in texts and locations reflecting political and cultural history whether in Germany, France or Italy. On their films together Straub (pron. Strorb) is credited as director while sharing production, post-production and writing credits with Huillet although, as further suggested, this functional ‘division of labour’ obscures the truly collaborative nature of their creative relationship.

Straub was born in France in Alsace-Lorraine. At the age of seven he experienced the banning of the right to continue to publicly speak French when the border province was occupied by Germany in 1940; over the centuries control has alternated between France and Germany and the culture is mixed.  His interest in cinema appears to have had its first active expression in his taking part in demonstrations against the unenterprising film programming of Metz cinemas. Straub made his first films in West Germany where he had moved in 1959 with Danièle Huillet to escape being conscripted into the French army for the Algerian War, and from 1969 they lived and worked in Italy.

The bulk of their work has been in German with their sources often also German, the philosophical and technical aspects having roots in German Marxism and in the aesthetic theories of Brecht although Straub admitted to only later reading his writings. His early experiences in filmmaking were during the period of the French New Wave in Paris where he met Danièle Huillet in 1954. They married in 1959 and remained inseparable for the 52 years until Danièle’s death. Her interest in cinema, especially in ethnographic film, pre-dated the meeting with Straub when both were preparing to enrol, unsuccessfully, in the French film school, IDHEC. Prior to moving to Munich Straub worked as an assistant to Abel Gance, Renoir, Rivette, Astruc, and Bresson, the latter's work a major formative influence.

The sexist assumption that Straub was the principal author of the films with Huillet in a supportive ‘behind the scenes’ role persisted until a 1982 interview published in ‘Frauen und Film’ in which “Huillet removed all doubt that the works of Straub/Huillet are truly collaborative - and always have been” (Barton Byg 12). Byg states that the single area in which Huillet did leave more of the decisions to Straub is the aspect of filmmaking that has been reified into directorial “signature”:    the set-up and framing of the shots, with areas such as script and mise en scene (staging) more equally collaborative while sound, editing, and scene design together with certain producer’s functions, were more likely to have been in Huillet’s charge.

Byg further points out that “Straub/Huillet question the notion of authorship by multiplying the form of their works, subverting the question of “originality.”  “From the very beginning a principal aspect of their aesthetic has been to subvert the primacy of the visual in cinema by having the text, sound, duration, and editing clash with, rather than support, the image” (12). At the same time they did not dismiss the implication of individual work within film tradition, consistently referring to the importance of figures of the classical cinema,”especially because it is endangered.”

Although “their approach is a modernist one of reduction and simplification of form” (ibid 20), Straub-Huillet, over more than three decades, repeatedly expressed their wish to maintain a connection to film tradition and references to the great artists of classical cinema abound in their work. Jean Gremillon’s experiments with sound other than as merely an accompaniment to the image, was a formative influence on Straub. He more than once cited Jean Renoir as the source of a definition of “the filmic - a tiny dialectic between between film, theatre and life” - also varying it by replacing “film” with “encounter with place” (ibid 20). Renoir’s description of the actor’s relation to the text and his early use of live sound also parallels that of Straub/Huillet (23,24).

To come across the films of Straub and Huillet without foreknowledge is to discover “a rigorous program that's all work and no play,” as Jonathan Rosenbaum warns but then hastens to add that “every one of their films offers an arena of play as well as work, and opportunities for sensual enjoyment as well as analytical reflection.” Writing in 1988, Rosenbaum draws a distinction between the marginality separating Straub/Huillet’s films from the more widely circulated “art films” of Godard, Ruiz, Kluge et al. Their films frequently present greater challenges for the viewer simply because they insist on the reality principle - preserving and enlivening the integrity of the original text in terms of meticulous choice of actual places/settings or landscapes where intensely rehearsed performances by the actors, with total commitment to live sound recorded at source for the final release soundtrack, as more important than the pleasure principle.

Jonathan Rosenbaum's further description of them and their films is well placed : “Utopian Marxists with a taste and passion for nature, antiquity, direct sound, and obscure, mainly neglected texts, they remain materialist thorns in the sides of those critics and programmers who believe that films are meant to be consumed rather than grappled with.” (123-9).  Other than what resides in the chosen text to be reshaped, Straub - Huillet rejected the narrative conventions prevailing in illusionistic film narrative. Their acceptance of photography as a baseline clearly distinguishes their films from the avant garde and “reveals the error of critics’ “tying them to the way structuralist/materialist filmmakers call attention to the material facts of film” (Byg 22).

Rosenbaum further distinguishes “the conflicts, textures, pleasures, and meanings [that] are created in the encounter of one or more pre-existing texts (verbal and musical) with concrete places/settings or landscapes. In each film the complex balance of the encounter is distinctly different.” The texts range from fiction (by Brecht, Heinrich Böll, Marguerite Duras, Kafka and Cesare Pavese) to poetry (by Saint John of the Cross, and Stéphane Mallarmé); from plays by Ferdinand Bruckner and Pierre Corneille to letters (by Friedrich Engels and Arnold Schoenberg); and from political statements (by Franco Fortini and Mahmoud Hussein) to musical pieces (by Bach and Schoenberg). The locations have included urban and rural landscapes in Egypt, France, Germany  and Italy, as well as shots in New York and St Louis to supplement the mainly German footage of Amerika / Class Relations, their 1984 Kafka adaptation. (123-4)

Nicht versöhnt /Not Reconciled 

Based on Heinrich Boll's novel 'Billiards at Half Past Nine',
 Nicht versöhnt /Not Reconciled (1965) a narrative about three generations in the life of a German middle class family involving eight members over 50 years (c1910-60) told mostly in flashbacks, is “quite simply exploded” in the film, the whole novel abstracted into 12 tableaux in a chain of elliptical moments in 53 minutes, past and present co-existing on the same level. Straub describes it as “a lacunary film” - the whole body is composed of cells with gaps between. “Time is flattened out, generations are meaningfully confused – all in order to make, not a film about the advent of the Nazis, but historically one that shows that Nazisim already existed politically before 1933 and continues still.” (Roud  Dictionary ed. and entry on Straub-Huillet 967). The Bressonian influence is clearly evident in the mise-en-scène of Not Reconciled. There is virtually no acting or interaction between the characters who dispassionately deliver monologues in scenes that are completely given over to them leaving little space for description of the location or for suggesting the character's state of mind. Straub stated that the intent was “to eliminate, as much as possible, any historical aura in both costume and sets, thus giving the images a kind of atonal character” so that they merge into a continuum of past and present.

Thereafter politics is an implicit presence but “taken up by the post 1968 left as models of anti-realist, political filmmaking” (Nowell-Smith, ‘Making Waves’ 214). Except in rare cases such as Fortini/Cani (1976), his (sic) films (sic) were political only to the extent that they “revolutionised representation” in breaking every convention that Hollywood had established. “His (sic) Brecht-inspired critique of representation and his radical politics had a lasting impact on the Young German film, especially on Alexander Kluge and the early Rainer Werner Fassbinder” (Kaes 616).

András Kovács observes that “acts are depicted as symbolic gestures rather than as real physical facts, and so events of the plot for the most part are told rather than shown.” - the act of one character shooting another with a pistol in Not Reconciled is “reduced to the signalling of a gesture.” This aspect of Straub's style assumes the form of a kind of distanced theatricality, a tendency that becomes stronger in some of Straub/Huillet’s subsequent films. On the other hand, Straub adopts a radically minimalist style in, for example, Moses and Aaron (1974) in which two characters and a chorus perform Schoenberg's opera outdoors in the ruins of an ancient arena (148).

The film of Not Reconciled is to be counted among the many cases in the Straub/Huillet oeuvre where a knowledge of the original, in this case Boll's novel, and repeated viewings are necessary in order to comprehend the film's narrative but not the film's theme. To Rosenbaum, “for all its complexity and difficulty as an integral narrative, Not Reconciledregisters more simply and conventionally than [the Straubs'] other works within its individual sequences, and perhaps the only one of [their] individual films to which the usual concept of 'mise en scène' can comfortably be applied.”

The Chronicle of Anna Magdalena Bach

Straub-Huillet’s next film, 
The Chronicle of Anna Magdalena Bach (1968), was a first project made after a long struggle for funding and thus Bach was their third realised film, composed of documents from Johann Sebastian’s life, musical performances in historic locations, and a few fictionalised scenes held together by a voice-over narration by his second wife, Anna Magdalena Bach. “It never presumes to tell us more about the characters’ motivations or personal lives than the historical evidence offered in the chronicle although some additional evidence was generated in the same tone” (Turim 330). Nothing survives that was known to have been written by Anna Magdalena except for an inscription in a bible. Most of the text is made up of phrases from her husband's letters and the necrology written by one of his sons. In all there are about twenty sources, plus the linking passages written by Straub and Huillet.

Leading Bach interpreter, harpsichordist Gustav Leonhardt, plays Bach in both senses. However the Chronicle is not just a biographical account but an intelligent revelling by Straub-Huillet in the “Bach experience.” New York film critic Armond White finds Straub expanding film’s potential in letting various techniques illustrate aspects of Bach’s life and work, witnessing Bach’s real-time execution of performances (as portrayed by Gustav Leonhardt). “Rejecting the sentimental conventions of  storytelling, Straub/Huillet find pleasure in the rigours of film form.”

The music, from solo harpsichord to orchestral, on the soundtrack is presented to represent the range of Bach’s work recorded ‘live’ in performance (q.v.), and presented chronologically in 25 pieces, all extracts from the original as composed from 1721-49. Roy Armes suggests “this leads one to ponder on the style of performance and the nature of the film itself” (214).

 “Much time and travel was dedicated to finding [25 different original locations] and performers who could use the original baroque instruments, a practice that was not at all common at the time […] The live recording of uninterrupted performances also goes against [film] industry practices.”(Byg 55).  

 Chronicle is, as Straub has said, “a love story. It is also a documentary on the actors and musicians of the film; also a film with social and political aspects; and finally, to use a phrase of Straub’s, it is a film-film [i.e. 'pure film'] and it is in this last aspect that it brings us back to the music of Bach. It is because the film is all of these things at once that it is such a major achievement of integration.” (Roud BFI p.65)

Othon

Othon
 (1969) - more an exemplar than  a paradigm on the spectrum of Straub-Huillet’s radical approaches to redefining cinematic narration - their first film in colour, is also the first of a number of their films set in the ancient world. It is based on a canonical text, Pierre Corneille’s 17th century play, a tragedy inspired by an episode of Roman history from 69 AD. It contains what can be taken as a revolutionary message around an ambitious nobleman’s search for power through love and political scheming. In 1962 while they were on holiday in Rome Straub was inspired to make a film on the site of the Circus Maximus, the remains of a massive ensemble of buildings looking across a valley. Six years later after completing Bach Straub suddenly had the idea of Othon “ feeling the need of a text, a language which would be as tight a texture as the music of Bach; and on the level of the spoken word, Cornielle did the same thing that Bach did for music” (Roud BFI 105).

Corneille’s play has a complex plot constructed around the struggle for the throne at the end of the reign of the ageing Emperor Galba, “the complications of the plot being its very essence.” All the characters are victims of the power game. Straub/Huillet felt that the power struggle and the relationship between the government and the governed had forceful 20th century parallels (ibid).  But Straub/Huillet had no interest in a theatrically conventional adaptation of the play.   

The video guide Understanding Straub and Huillet (see below) begins by asking the question: how and why does a film like Othon not look and feel like a conventional theatrical adaptation? The answer, it is suggested, lies in the underlying disconnect from generic film adaptation that feels like a documentary about actors performing an adaptation carved out of the diegesis (fictional world).  

Actors in period costume are ‘dropped’ into the present without any attempt being made to cover up the process of disconnection. The original diegesis is, in effect, superimposed on a modern filmed reality. This palimpsest is made up of 5 layers seemingly in competition: the original play (1) is condensed from 135 to 90 minutes at times running too fast for ‘reading,’ cadence in delivery of the lines given priority over enunciation (2), imposed on a pre-selected location on which the film is built (3), with the actors in Roman dress denoting the period (69 AD) (4). A variety of mainly non-French actors was carefully chosen and exhaustively rehearsed. An ‘explosive mix’ forming a distancing from the ‘“rocking horse rhythms” of the Alexandrine French (ibid 113) - a variety of accents spoken without dramatic expression before a backdrop of ancient remains, the sight and sounds of traffic of contemporary Rome in the valley and of water in a nearby fountain, all forming an aural tapestry. The burden of stage - bound theatricality from the classical past is dialectically dissolved by distancing techniques of Brechtian epic theatre directed at transforming a passive into a ‘thinking’ audience.

For Straub/Huillet, as Roud points out, “ language is an ‘object - something to be manipulated and handled as freely in the composition of the soundtrack as the visuals in the cutting room” (113). In contrast, their insistence on directly recorded sound as the final soundtrack, something live that can only be partially controlled, in preference to wholly determined studio sound recording and dubbing. For Straub/Huillet direct sound becomes another available option, the tension between ‘reality’ and artifice allowing actuality and chance to play a role (114).

This is all designed as part of the Straub’s and Huillet’s craft, as Tag Gallagher puts it, to paradoxically “finally make the texts themselves disappear, whereupon we have a movie, which is why the words have so much more substance.” As Sarah Jane Foster continues in her Cinematheque Annotation on Othon available online in ‘Senses of Cinema’ : “Othon doesn’t elevate the language of the play by creating artifice around it; the words become another material element in the filming process” [emphasis added] […] The flattened hierarchy of material and narrative lets us experience the film sensorially:  the timbre of each actor’s voice, the hum of background traffic, and the texture of the green trees and wine-red tunics are as important to the film as Cornielle.”

In defence of this approach to the text, novelist and filmmaker Marguerite Duras in 1971 implored audiences to put aside conventionally conditioned expectations and go and see Othon. “To call a work obscure is just as disastrous as to call it a masterpiece of clarity: the text becomes burdened with a prejudice that prevents the reader from relating to it directly. The work is imprisoned” (quoted Foster.” See entry on Duras in 6 (10).

History Lessons

Straub/Huillet’s following film,
 History Lessons (1972), is closely based on an unfinished novel by Bertolt Brecht ,’The Business  Deals of Mr Julius Caesar.’ Interviews with four contemporaries of Caesar’s - a banker, a soldier, a lawyer and a writer - place Caesar’s exploits in political perspective  exactly quoting Brecht’s dialogue while the filmmakers “make a radical (Brechtian) break with every rule of narrative film grammar” in paring away illusions. “This is arguably political cinema at its most advanced and provocative” (Tony Rayns ‘Time Out’).

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Tony McKibbin is the author a short guide on Where to Begin with the Straub/Huillet films. Click for link.  https://www.bfi.org.uk/features/where-begin-with-jean-marie-straub-daniele-huillet. He suggests the best film to start (The Chronicle of Anna Magdalena Bach), and the best follow-up viewing (History Lessons and Too Early/Too Late).  

Available on YouTube is a 17 min. video guide Understanding Straub and Huillet in the Studio Ersatz series by an unidentified presenter making effective use of clips from their second feature film Othon made in the form of a palimpsest - an open ended multi-layered adaptation of a play to film.

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Stuart Liebman  “Not Reconciled”  review  Monthly Film Bulletin  March 1976                                                                     

Richard Roud entry on Jean-Marie Straub  in Cinema a Critical Dictionary  Ed. Roud  Vol 2  1980;                                                       

Straub  BFI Cinema One series  1971                                                                                                                                       

Tony Rayns  review “The Bridegroom, the Comedienne and the Pimp”  MFB op cit.                                                                                                                                                                                                         

Tag Gallagher “The Greatest Filmmaker You've Never Heard Of”  Sight & Sound  Dec. 2009                                        

Maureen Turim  Essay on Straub and Huillet in New German Filmmakers  ed. Klaus Phillips 1984                              

Jonathan Rosenbaum “The Sound of German”   Essential Cinema 2004                                                                                              

Martin Walsh “Brecht and Straub/Huillet: The Frontiers of Language  Afterimage 7  Summer 1978                              

Barton Byg  Landscapes of Resistance  the German Films of Straub/Huillet  1995                                                         

Roy Armes The Ambiguous Image: narrative style in modern European film 1976  chapter on Straub

Monday, 29 July 2024

Sixty Years of International Art Cinema 1960-2020 - Bruce Hodsdon continues his series - 6 (29) West German Cinema Part Five - The New German Cinema: Enter Fassbinder

Rainer Werner Fassbinder

Rainer Werner Fassbinder (1946-82) was the only child of a broken middle-class family (his father a doctor, his mother a translator). He remembered family life as ‘rather chaotic’, lacking in the rules and regulations of middle-class life. The house contained ‘nothing but literature and art’. After his parent’s divorce in 1951 Fassbinder stayed with his mother. He was left very much to his own devices and his mother sent him off to the cinema so that she could work. This childhood loneliness and longing for love and affection left a mark on the characters in his films. His first feature was titled Love is Colder than Death  and was followed by a 1976 feature, I Only Want You to Love Me. From the age of seven he claimed to have spent every day of his childhood at the cinema. Hollywood genres were a benchmark for Fassbinder’s career as a filmmaker. His early education was at the Rudolf Steiner School (Sandford).

In the summer of 1967 Fassbinder joined one of Munich’s fringe theatre groups, where he acted in, directed, then wrote adaptations of various plays. “The ‘action theatre’ was very much of its time, anarchic, subversive and critical, reflecting and reacting to the events of the day” (ibid 64). Fassbinder acted in a play directed by Jean-Marie Straub appearing as one of the underground post-Brechtian theatre group in Straub’s short film The Bridegroom, the Actress and the Pimp (1968). The authorities closed the Action Theatre because it had exceeded the grounds of its original permit being seen to have entered the realm of a ‘political cabaret’ contrary to the ‘predominantly artistic’ activities stipulated in its permit (ibid). Members of the Action Theatre regrouped and finally found a new home the following year. They performed two of their plays in monotone acting style on stage with minimal furniture. Using some of their theatre ideas the group made Fassbinder’s ‘gangster trilogy’ and  Katzelmacher plus two other feature films in 14 months,1969-70.

Fassbinder (l) 
The Bridegroom, The Actress and the Pimp

In 
The Bridegroom…, Jean-Marie Straub applied an austere aesthetic on Ferdinand Bruckner’s 1926 play ‘Sickness of Youth’. Straub said that in paring down the film version of the play from two hours to an 8 minutes narration he removed all explanatory psychology, deliberately eliminating all theatricality.  Expanded into a 23 min. triptych collage leaving only the relations between elements in the play, was intended as a contribution to the debate on the relationship between theatre and film ( Maureen Turim 342, Phillips ed. ).

Kovacs devotes a whole chapter of ‘Screening Modernism’ to the impact of theatrical style in late modern European art cinema coinciding with the parallel theatrical activities of many modernist directors evidenced in an exaggerated, unnatural, abstract acting style, an artificiality in conjunction with sets and expressive lighting.  In the New German Cinema this theatricality was pronounced in films directed by Herzog and especially Syberberg. Fassbinder’s style is hard to define, marked by theatre in many varied ways beginning with an artificial pastiche of the gangster genre in some of his early films. Kovacs notes that Fassbinder first adapted pastiche to some real life experience in Fear Eats the Soul.

Notes on four select features of Fassbinder’s entry into feature filmmaking 1969-71 follow.

Kovács describes as the “peculiar minimalist style” of Fassbinder’s second feature Katzelmacher (1969) - and also his first feature, Love is Colder than Death -  a mixture in the former of dispassionate Straubian theatricality and Antonionian long take style with no movement at all of figures in the bleached out empty space of white walls. This is in contrast to his later films in which “theatrical and motivational saturation takes over” (159).

Fassbinder, Hanna Schygulla,
Katzelmacher

Katzelmacher 
is an explicitly social-critical film which deals with the problem of the ‘Gastarbeiter’, the plight of the immigrant worker in Germany for whom Fassbinder had an affinity. The film’s title is a Bavarian colloquialism referring especially to the supposed sexual potency of southern Europeans. The film sets off the experiences of a Greek Gastarbeiter, Jorgos, against the suspicion, intolerance, and antipathy of four young German couples towards him. Katzelmacher is regarded as containing the most sustained deployment of alienation devices in any Fassbinder film. The characters rarely face each other when they speak. The choreography and circularity in repetition of the couples’ movement in the static long takes to a popular Schubert melody, underlines the boredom and one dimensionality in their lives.

Tony Pipolo describes Katzelmacher as “a textbook case of minimalist cinema within the modernist tradition.” As an example of a reflexive narrative film it “epitomizes Fassbinder’s position with respect to traditional narrative and avant garden cinemas.”  Its thematics on the futility of hope, the immobility of youth and perpetuation of the status quo also reappear in Fassbinder’s subsequent films (97). “It is precisely the form of the parable/allegory which Katzelmacher offers more directly and with more purity than any other Fassbinder film” (ibid).

Filmmaker, critic and friend of Fassbinder, Christian Braad Thomsen, identifies Katzelmacher as the first of his ‘bourgeois films’, as Fassbinder called them, in contrast to his ‘cinema films’. “What is ‘bourgeois’ is not the films, but the world they describe and criticise” (78). Katzelmacher ends with “two of the principal characters formulating their ideas about a way out of the milieu that threatens to suffocate them. If one were to define these sketchy dreams in political terms, then one points in a fascist direction. Erich sees the army as a way out and the possibility of change.” The other is anarchistic, “Marie dreams of a country without the concept of property where love is pure and beautiful.” Thomsen suggests that “simply and without moralizing, Fassbinder indicates the two paths we can choose, and in his future films he repeatedly tried to show the necessity and possibility of the second way” (82).

Margarethe von Trotta, The American Soldier

The last of Fassbinder’s gangster trilogy, his sixth feature,
The American Soldier (1970), has been described as his “most perfect film” (ibid 71). It brings together more artistically the themes in the preceding two [gangster] films” and “masters the difficult balancing act between pastiche and parody, so that it becomes something quite different, a strangely poetic film with a characteristic austere and brutal tenderness” (ibid 74).  Fassbinder is clearly not interested in telling a story but rather setting up a series of iconic situations. “The theme is that violence is an expression of frustrated love.” Another of the themes coming through more clearly is “that police and gangsters belong to the same breed and have the same trade.” Thomsen sums up that The American Soldier is not merely referring to American genre models but “looks forward to the later complete and harmonious works which sprang from Fassbinder’s creative rage and which obstinately stuck to the path already laid out” (ibid).

 Wiegand notes that after Katzelmacher, Fassbinder’s style showed little development for several years while he constantly borrowed from different film genres (25). A significant film in the development of his oeuvre is Warnung for miner heilgen Nutte / Beware of a Holy Whore, his ninth feature, one of seven Fassbinder completed in 1970 including four tv productions “marking the end of the obsessively personal style characteristic of Fassbinder’s early films and paving the way for a more objectified  treatment of subject matter (Kuhn, Phillips ed. 88).  As an actively self-conscious film about filmmaking  although it could be said to be more about frustrations, mainly sexual, within the group while waiting for the arrival of the director halfway through so filming could begin.

Eddie Constantine, Hanna Schygulla
Beware of a Holy Whore

Beware of a Holy Whore 
is one of four such films made by European auteurs beginning with Godard’s Le Mépris (1963), then Truffaut’s La nuit Américaine / Day for Night (1973), and culminating in Wim Wenders’ The State of Things (1981) “a meditation on the state of the art” which ends with an independent German filmmaker being killed on a Hollywood street reflecting Wenders’ state of mind following his legendary difficulties over the completion of his Coppola produced Hammett(1982). Bluntly autobiographical of the breakdown during the filming of his previous film, Whity,  Fassbinder’s film, Thomsen suggests, is close to Truffaut’s with “cinema seen as a ‘holy whore’ which stands between the characters involved and the reality beyond the film production” (94).

Fassbinder’s first 11 features were produced under the Action Theatre label “which in its most literal sense was intended to advertise the blatant anti-illusionist, anti-theatrical posture assumed by Fassbinder and his acting company prior to the more commercial enterprise beginning with The Merchant of Four Seasons. The action theatre idea was to create “a sort of commune” in which everyone concerned […] was basically an author.” But Fassbinder himself declared later that this ideal was utopian and that works of art are inevitably created in an authoritarian manner ( Wilfried Wiegand interview quoted Pipolo fn p.95). The deliberately self-conscious gestures in these early films, along with their freewheeling stylistic references to prototypical Hollywood films, were perfectly consistent with the “reflexive posture.” Clearly, Fassbinder’s subsequent desire to reach a large audience necessitated relinquishing such a posture and the adoption of a more mimetic style consistent with the priorities of narrative cinema (ibid). Pipolo notes that "with Katzelmacher and In a Year of Thirteen Moons (1978) Fassbinder came close to creating alternative forms of narrative” (94).

Fassbinder’s twelfth feature directed (also written) by Fassbinder in 18 months, Der Handler der vier Jahreszeiten / The Merchant of Four Seasons (1971) based on a true story from his own family, was his first popular success with German audiences. Fassbinder regarded it a turning point in his career, less self absorbed, more objective story telling. For the first time, Kuhn notes (ibid p.90), psychology plays a part in characterisation and there is character development.  Hans Epp, a street vendor, is a typical Fassbinder hero; he meets betrayal and defeat at every turn, from the beginning subject to an oppressive mother. Fassbinder makes Hans something of a modern everyman, “ the story of almost everyone I know has lived himself […] Epp wishes to make something of his life but his education, his environment, his circumstances don’t admit fulfilment of his dream” (Fassbinder).  This indicates  an important shift in the filmmaker’s  perspective. “No longer preeminently the projected working through of his own anxieties, the film with its mimetic orientation, has a broader audience appeal” (ibid 91).

Hans Hirschmuller, Irm Hermann
The Merchant of Four Seasons

Fassbinder’s first film after his encounter with Douglas Sirk’s films is replete with stock melodramatic figures and plot developments but without pushing the melodrama to the point of parody instead “redefining melodrama as social parable […] finding ways to convert them into sophisticated, witty, and elegant entertainments” (Pipolo 126). 
Merchant succeeds, in good part, because of its melodrama allowing Fassbinder to introduce strong emotions into his films with a resonance missing in his previous work, creating sympathy for Hans rather then empathy. Following a Brechtian legacy of distancing he embeds Hans Epps’ story archetypically in the sociopolitical context of Germany in the 50s (Kuhn 92). Fassbinder’s second deployment of Sirkian melodrama followed in Angst essen Seele auf / Ali : Fear Eats the Soul (1973) in which he applies stylisation for heightened emotionalism inspired by Sirk’s All That Heaven Allows to the story of a real life relationship he found in a newspaper - that between a Turkish immigrant worker and an older woman.

Feature Films by Fassbinder 1969-73  following John Sandford’s groupings with month of film premiere included;  * indicates cinema release.

1. Echoes of Hollywood: The Gangster Trilogy  Love is Colder than Death (June 69)*,  Gods of the Plague (July 70)*, The American Soldier (Nov 70)*

2. Stylisation & Realism  Katzelmacher (Nov 69)*  Why Does Herr R Run Amok?  (Feb 71)*

3. !970 the Year of Experiment  The Coffee House (May 70 tv), The Journey to Niklahausen  (Oct 70 tv), Rio das Mortes  (Feb 71 tv),  Pioneers of the Ingolstadt (May 71 tv ),  Whity (July 71),   Beware of a Holy Whore ( Aug 71)

4. Breakthrough with the German Public The Merchant of Four Seasons (Mar 72)*, The Bitter Tears of Petra Von Kant (Oct 72)*. Fassbinder’s international breakthrough was with Fear Eats the Soul  (March 74)*

Concerning Fassbinder’s project of stretching the notion of German history beyond 1933-45, as Thomas Elsaesser points out (268), if one considers 7 feature films and a tv series he made in the decade 1971-81 “not in the order they were made but in the chronology of the periods they depict, the scope and wealth of characters and situations, of stories, types and people is astounding.“  Beginning with the Prussian aristocracy in the 1890s in Effi Briest; proletarian life in the growing capital of the Reich, Berlin, 1922-29, in Berlin Alexanderplatz;  the rise of Fascism amongst the wealthy middle class, 1932-5, in Despair ; the career of a nightclub singer among upper echelons of the Nazi Party between several cities in Lilli Marleen; the economic miracle in the Cologne area, 1945-53, in The Marriage of Maria Braun; the Adenauer years and local politics,1955-8, in Lola ; show business, drugs and Munich high-life in the mid-50s in Veronica Voss; petty bourgeois family life in the Munich suburbs around 1960 in The Merchant of Four Seasons.  Other films, such as The Third Generation and In the Year of Thirteen Moons, continue this history up to the mid- and late 70s.

Elsaesser concludes that Fassbinder, in contrast to Kluge and Syberberg, “made a decision to use narrative to tell stories in his reckoning with German history: to opt, in other words, for the illusion of realism, heightened by stylisation and artifice, and to go for this version of history to the cinema itself” (269). Fassbinder (as quoted by Mark Cousins in ‘The Story of Film’) puts it succinctly : “The ideal is to make films as beautiful as America’s but to move the content to other areas.”

Werner Herzog

While Fassbinder was making his move from writing and directing for fringe theatre and low budget features, 
Werner Herzog had, at the Berlin Film Festival, received the Silver Bear for his first feature - Lebenszeichen / Signs of Life (1967) gently focused on a stunted Romantic visionary - a German soldier with two others guarding a useless ammunition dump on a Greek island during World War II - who hears voices in the ground. Herzog subsequently authored the startlingly original put-downs of human aspiration marked by ascendingly ironic chapter headings in the visionary non-narrative, Fata Morgana (1968), filmed in the Sahara, full of ideas quoted in subsequent films. Even Dwarfs Started Small (1970) is a grotesque ‘Bunuelian’ tale of a revolt by dwarfs “in an institution whose director is absent, like Pascal’s God” (Brigette Peucker, Philips ed.).  

Wim Wenders directed six short films and a diploma feature, Summer in the City (1970) centred on a man newly released from prison on a failed search for former friends travelling from one wintry city to the next, “locomotion and music [the film is dedicated to the Kinks] shown as the only possible source of human contact.” Wenders called it “a film about depression.“  His critical breakthrough came out of his friendship with writer Peter Handke who wrote the script for The Goalkeeper’s Fear of the Penalty Kick (1971) based on his novel.

Wim Wenders

Bloch, a goalkeeper feeling his age, walks out on a game in Vienna then hanging around, commits an arbitrary murder, and in a vague attempt to flee Bloch ends up in an Austrian border village “sustained only by his love for American movies and rock music.” What appears to be shaping as a murder-thriller works against all expectations. Tony Rayns in ‘Time Out’ noted the sense in which “everything shown is at once subjective and objective,” in this respect outdoing even the first of Wenders’ road movie trilogy, 
Alice in the Cities (1974), thematically involving a burnt out journalist’s loss of faith in words. Jan Dawson notes a further achievement of Wenders in his films “using dialogue as form rather than content.”

Both the above observations deserve more elaboration in relation to Dawson’s further reference to Wenders’ films as “totally lacking in aggression.” In their pacing and perspective, is “the vision of an incongruous universe in which the human characters [free of psychological explanation] are seldom the most interesting item on the screen, the emphasis on the language of gesture rather than on dialogue - all these leave Wenders through the 70s closer to Ozu than the convention of Hollywood narrative,” the action film facade of The American Friend (1977) notwithstanding.

Wenders in an interview with Jan Dawson spoke of having Goalkeeper  “completely rejected any idea of […] psychological explanation of anything[…] already […] a very important break from American cinema,” something which he appreciated when he later saw Ozu films sensing a soulmate who earlier in his career had also been strongly influenced by American films while nevertheless retaining and developing his own style. Wenders debt to Ozu, it is suggested, was not a particular style or method - he had been using Ozu-like techniques before ever seeing an Ozu film- but rather “learning to trust his own vision” (Kathe Geist essay, Phillips ed. 387). Wenders said that he found that his own ideas of cinema were the same as Ozu’s : “his way of telling stories was so absolutely representational.”

Hans-Jurgen Syberberg

In 1968, after a decade of making mainly short documentaries for Bavarian television, for want of any opportunities in the film industry,
 Hans-Jurgen Syberberg made his first feature film, How Much Earth Does a Man Need? (1968), based on a Tolstoy short story in which Syberberg pays more attention to a series of images with mythic associations than to a coherent plot. The three main films prior to Syberberg’s magnum opus are built around key figures in modern German consciousness: King Ludwig II of Bavaria, the popular author Karl May, and Adolf Hitler. Hitler : a Film for Germany  (1977) is “a bewildering symphony of ideas, impressions, sights, sounds, and emotions” running 7 hours. In again creating the film’s own form through a series of images with mythic connections and operatic theatricality to replace a coherent plot, Syberberg marked his final rejection of Hollywood cinema still dominant in Germany (ibid 364).

Ula Stockl

The Cat has Nine Lives 
(1968), the first feature by Ula Stockl, was funded by a grant from the Kuratorium after she had made shorts as a student of Kluge (she was his assistant on Yesterday Girl) and Reitz at the newly formed Ulm Film institute. Cat was ahead of the times as a harbinger for the full emergence of women’s filmmaking in Germany in the early to mid 70s in which Stockl participated with a series of medium length dramas for tv thematically linked around issues connected with affective relationships culminating with Erika’s Passions (1976) and A Woman with Responsibility (1977).

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Geoffrey Nowell-Smith ed. History of World Cinema “The New German Cinema” (Anton Kaes) 

Anton Kaes  From Hitler to Heimat 1989 

John Sandford The New German Cinema 1981 

Peter C Lutze  Alexander Kluge The Last Modernist 1998 

Karyn Kay  “Part-Time Work of a Domestic Slave” review  Film Quarterly Fall 1975 

Timothy Corrigan New German Film 1983;  essay New German Critique Winter 1990 Klaus Phillips ed. New German Filmmakers 1984 : essays on 26 filmmakers incl. Reitz by Ingrid Scheib-Rothbart & Ruth McCormick, Schlondorff & von Trotta by Christian-Albrecht Gollub  

Thomas  Elsaesser  New German Cinema A History 1989 

Stuart Liebman   “Why Kluge?”   October 46  Fall 1988 issue devoted to Kluge

Heide Schlussmann  “Women and Femininity in the Films of Alexander Kluge 

Tony Rayns ed. Fassbinder BFI 1976  essays by Elsaesser (“Vicious Circles”), Rayns (“Syntax”)

Christian  Braad Thomsen  Fassbinder  Life and Work of a Provocative Genius 1991                                    

 Wilfried Wiegand “Interview with Rainer Werner Fassbinder” in Fassbinder  1981

Tony Pipolo “Bewitched by the Holy Whore”  October 21 Summer 1982                                                       

 Jan Dawson  Entry on Wim Wenders in Cinema a Critical Dictionary  vol.2  ed.R. Roud 1980 ; interview with Wenders, New York Zoetrope  1976

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Previous entries in this series can be found if you click the following links

 

Sixty Years of International Art Cinema: 1960-2020 - Tables and Directors Lists to Accompany Bruce Hodsdon's Series

 

Notes on canons, methods, national cinemas and more

 

Part One - Introduction

Part Two - Defining Art Cinema

Part Three - From Classicism to Modernism

Part Four - Authorship and Narrative

Part Five - International Film Guide Directors of the Year, The Sight and Sound World Poll, Art-Horror

Part Six (1) - The Sixties, the United States and Orson Welles

Part Six (2) - Hitchcock, Romero and Art Horror

Part Six (3) - New York Film-makers - Elia Kazan & Shirley Clarke  

Part Six (4) - New York Film-makers - Stanley Kubrick Creator of Forms

Part Six (5) ‘New Hollywood’ (1) - Arthur Penn, Warren Beatty, Pauline Kael and BONNIE AND CLYDE

Part Six (6) Francis Ford Coppola: Standing at the crossroads of art and industry

Part 6(7) Altman

6(8) Great Britain - Joseph Losey, Lindsay Anderson, Karel Reisz, Richard Lester, Peter Watkins, Barney Platts-Mills

6(9) France - Part One The New Wave and The Cahiers du Cinema Group

6(10) France - Part Two - The Left Bank/Rive Gauche Group and an Independent

6(11) France - Part Three - Young Godard

6(12) France - Part Four - Godard:Visionary and Rebel

6 (13) France Part 5 Godard with Gorin, Miéville : Searching for an activist voice

6(14) France Part 6 - Creator of Forms - Bresson 

6 (15) France Part 6 - Creator of Forms - Jacques Tati

 6 (16) - Part 6 - Creator of Forms - Carl Th Dreyer

6 (17) - Italy and Luchino Visconti

6(18 - Italy and Roberto Rossellini - Part One

6(19) - Rossellini, INDIA and the new Historical realism

6(20) - Rossellini in Australia

6 (21) - Italy - Michelangelo Antonioni

6 (22) - Italy - Federico Fellini, Ermanno Olmi

6 (23) - Italy - Pasolini, Rosi

6 (24) - Interregnum - Director/Auteur/Autoren

6 (25) West Germany

6 (26) - Alexander Kluge Part One

6 (27) - Alexander Kluge Part Two

6 (28) - The Young German Cinema: Reitz, Schlondorff, von Trotta