Hans Hirschmüller and Irm Hermann in The Merchant of Four Seasons (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1972)
Cast: Hans Hirschmüller, Irm Hermann, Hanna Schygulla, Klaus Löwitsch, Karl Scheydt, Andrea Schober, Gusti Kreissl, Ingrid Caven, Kurt Raab, Heidi Simon.
Screenplay: Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Cinematography: Dietrich Lohmann. Production design: Kurt Raab
Schlubby little (much is made of how much shorter he is than his wife) Hans Epp (Hans Hirschmüller) joined the Foreign Legion after washing out of the Munich police force for receiving a blowjob from a prostitute he had arrested, and now sells fruit from a pushcart he trundles through the courtyards of apartment houses. He is the object of scorn from his family because he never found a white-collar job, unlike his upwardly mobile brother-in-law and his intellectual sister Anna (Hanna Schygulla). His wife, Irmgard (Irm Hermann), assists him in the fruit-selling business, working from a street stall, but it's clear that their marriage is troubled -- she spies on him at work, counting the minutes that he takes to deliver a bagful of pears to the woman he once proposed to. (She turned him down.) Even his mother (Gusti Kreissl) doesn't love him: When he returns from the Foreign Legion and tells her that the friend who enlisted with him was killed, she retorts, "The good die young, but you come back." When he suffers a heart attack, Irmgard cheats on him while he's in the hospital, and then later lets him hire the man she slept with to take over the heavy-lifting part of the job. Despite all that's stacked against him, Hans manages to make a go as a merchant, but just as his family begins to praise him instead of dumping on him, he sinks into a deep depression and winds up drinking himself to death. If this all sounds terribly heavy-handed, it's lifted out of the suds in precisely the way Douglas Sirk made his films rise about their soap-operatic plots with sharp-eyed direction, flashes of wit, and sly social comment. The comparison to Sirk is an obvious one: Rainer Werner Fassbinder's breakthrough film was inspired by his study of the Hollywood master, whom he deliberately set out to imitate and, I think, managed to excel, if only because he wasn't handicapped by the money-making concerns and censorship of American film. There are some delicious performances, not only from Hirschmüller as the sad-sack Hans and Hermann as his sly helpmeet, but also from Schygulla as the somewhat sympathetic Anna. And the film ends with one of the most chilling exchanges in any Fassbinder film, as Irmgard and Harry (Klaus Löwitsch), Hans's old Legionnaire buddy who has gone to work for him, drive away from the funeral and she proposes a business-like marriage to him. His terse reply, "Okay," perfectly sums up the emotionless, mercantile tone that pervades the film.
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the Academy thinking that Best Cinematography might not be important enough to include on the Oscars telecast got me thinking about DPs who’ve never been nominated and the images they helped create:
Maryse Alberti (Poison, Crumb, Velvet Goldmine, The Wrestler, Creed)
Natasha Braier (XXY, Somers Town, The Milk of Sorrow, The Rover, The Neon Demon)
Charlotte Bruus Christensen (The Hunt, The Girl on the Train, Fences, Molly’s Game, A Quiet Place)
Raoul Coutard (Breathless, Lola, Vivre Sa Vie, Contempt, The Bride Wore Black)
Stefan Czapsky (Vampire’s Kiss, Edward Scissorhands, Batman Returns, Ed Wood, Matilda)
George E. Diskant (Desperate, They Live by Night, On Dangerous Ground, The Narrow Margin, Kansas City Confidential)
Christopher Doyle (Days of Being Wild, Fallen Angels, Happy Together, The Quiet American, Hero)
Frederick Elmes (River’s Edge, Blue Velvet, Wild at Heart, Broken Flowers, Paterson)
Tak Fujimoto (Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, The Silence of the Lambs, Philadelphia, Devil in a Blue Dress, The Sixth Sense)
Agnès Godard (Beau Travail, Trouble Every Day, Friday Night, Bastards, Let the Sunshine In)
Victor J. Kemper (Dog Day Afternoon, Eyes of Laura Mars, ...And Justice for All., National Lampoon’s Vacation, Pee-wee’s Big Adventure)
László Kovács (Five Easy Pieces, Paper Moon, New York New York, Ghostbusters, Say Anything...)
Ellen Kuras (Swoon, I Shot Andy Warhol, Summer of Sam, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Away We Go)
Dietrich Lohmann (Love Is Colder Than Death, Gods of the Plague, The American Soldier, The Merchant of Four Seasons, Deep Impact)
Hélène Louvart (The Last Day, The Wonders, Dark Night, Beach Rats, Happy as Lazzaro)
Subrata Mitra (Pather Panchali, Aparajito, The Music Room, The World of Apu, Charulata)
Kazuo Miyagawa (Rashomon, Ugetsu, Sansho the Bailiff, Floating Weeds, Yojimbo)
Reed Morano (Frozen River, Kill Your Darlings, The Skeleton Twins, Meadowland, I Think We’re Alone Now)
Robby Müller (Repo Man, Paris Texas, To Live and Die in L.A., Down by Law, Breaking the Waves)
Declan Quinn (Vanya on 42nd Street, Leaving Las Vegas, Kama Sutra: A Tale of Love, Monsoon Wedding, Breakfast on Pluto)
Lisa Rinzler (True Love, Menace II Society, Dead Presidents, Trees Lounge, Pollock)
Paul Sarossy (Speaking Parts, The Adjuster, Exotica, The Sweet Hereafter, Felicia’s Journey)
Andrzej Sekula (Reservoir Dogs, Pulp Fiction, Hackers, American Psycho, Vacancy)
Adam Stone (Shotgun Stories, Take Shelter, Mud, Midnight Special, Loving)
Gilbert Taylor (Dr. Strangelove, A Hard Day’s Night, Repulsion, The Omen, Star Wars: Episode IV – A New Hope)
Amy Vincent (Eve’s Bayou, Jawbreaker, The Caveman’s Valentine, Hustle & Flow, Black Snake Moan)
And so many more...
Anyone interested in me doing a daily series of related posts for March?
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Rainer Werner Fassbinder and Ulli Lommel in Love Is Colder Than Death (Rainer Werner Fassbinder, 1969)
Cast: Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Hanna Schygulla, Ulli Lommel, Katrin Schaake. Screenplay: Rainer Werner Fassbinder. Cinematography: Dietrich Lohmann. Music: Holger Münzer, Peer Raben.
The audience for Rainer Werner Fassbinder's first feature film largely consists of (1) hard-core Fassbinder fans; (2) professional film scholars; and (3) compulsive film-bloggers. (Since I don't belong to either of the first two groups, I guess I have defined myself into the third.) Other viewers probably give up on Love Is Colder Than Death after a few minutes of the minimally staged, flatly lighted, tonelessly acted opening scenes, which look like a documentary of a performance in an experimental theater. (Like, for example, the Antiteater in Munich that Fassbinder helped found.) If they last through these scenes, which are about the attempt of the mob to recruit Franz (Fassbinder) and his first meeting with Bruno (Ulli Lommel), they may have bailed out during an enigmatic conversation between Bruno and a woman (Katrin Schaake) he meets on a train, or shortly afterward, during Bruno's search for Johanna (Hanna Schygulla), the girlfriend Franz pimps out, a long sequence that consists largely of views of the nighttime streets down which Bruno is driving. Eventually, however, Love Is Colder Than Death comes together into the story of the ménage à trois formed by Bruno, Franz, and Johanna, and an ill-fated attempt to rob a bank. At this point it becomes clear that Fassbinder is mimicking and perhaps parodying the French New Wave. The ménage is very much like the ones in Jean-Luc Godard's Bande à Part (1964) and François Truffaut's Jules and Jim (1962), though entirely lacking the joie de vivre of either. In a somewhat shabbier way, Bruno emulates the gangster chic attempted by Jean-Paul Belmondo in Breathless (Godard, 1960) and mastered by Alain Delon in Le Samouraï (Jean-Pierre Melville, 1967). There's some of the larky post-adolescent lawlessness of Breathless and Masculin Féminin (Godard, 1966), as when the trio shoplifts sunglasses in a department store or Johanna and Bruno filch things in a supermarket, though Fassbinder's characters never seem to have much fun doing it. But there are touches throughout the film that might be called more Fassbinderish than Godardian. The supermarket scene is accompanied by several bars from a duet in Richard Strauss's Der Rosenkavalier that have been looped endlessly into a kind of insane Muzak, giving an eerie, almost feverish note to the scene. For much of the film, Fassbinder avoids pans and zooms and other camera tricks, but when he uses them it's noticeable, as in the scene in which Franz is being held by the police for interrogation: The camera glides regularly back and forth along a steady track, without holding for a second on the person speaking -- it's like moving your head back and forth during a tennis match without focusing on the ball. It can't just be the absence of a budget for blanks and blood squibs that makes the several scenes in which people are shot so lacking in conventional movie realism: In each case, we hear the sound of the shot without seeing either smoke or a muzzle flash from a gun, and the victim falls down dead, like a kid in a playground pretend gunfight. And even the ending, which fades to white instead of black, seems like Fassbinder making fun of movie conventions. I don't know of many other movies that manage to be so derivative and yet so original at the same time.
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