La donna mancina

Honestly not much happens here. An unhappily married woman announces that she wants to leave her husband and takes her son with her...and she does! Movie then spends the rest of its running time observing her fussing and her various efforts at being comfortable living in peace with her young son. (she's a writer and her son keeps interrupting her while she's trying to write) Movie is watchable thanks to its direction and cinematography (some of which is very scenic) and the acting is fine--but there's not a whole lot of momentum here. Eventually Bruno Ganz shows back up (he being the ex husband) but he's clearly happy not being married to the woman anymore--so the film doesn't even have that little bit of tension going for it. If he's happy, and ultimately despite her concerns so is the woman--then why are we watching this???

I did like when her father visited her tho--there's a brief interlude where her father shows up and takes a walk with her through a supermarket where he encounters an actor and tells the actor that he feels that's he's not leaving traces of himself in his roles---"you're like an American actor--you just go from role to role without giving an audience any sense of who you are as a person!" he says--"I look forward to seeing you grow up from film to film in the future." Also Gerard Depardieu shows up quite briefly in one nice long shot while the woman is meeting her father at the train station wearing some ironic t-shirt like a modern day hipster-- and then doesn't speak any lines whatsoever. (the least he could've done was be the actor that the father sees in the supermarket but nope!)

I know someone who really liked this film--but honestly to me it didn't make the inner torment the woman is going through any more cinematic then it should be in order to truly be enlightening or moving to audiences ask to identify with her plight. I have to imagine a lot of this read a lot better on page then it plays on screen.

By definition, a movie has a story to tell. It does this either by dialogue, or by sequential events.

This one has neither. It's like observing with binoculars something in the distance, and not have any clue about what's really going on. Yes, this is the purpose of the film, to force the viewer into the impossible task of reading the minds of the actors, an open ended story where any interpretation is good.

Why even use such good actors when there's no dialogue or scene that they can show their skill?

Many books were transferred to screen very successfully, but not this one. I suspect the subject is not fitting.

I saw "The Left-Handed Woman" on its original release more than twenty years ago, and though I have never seen it since it continues to haunt me. The performance by Edith Clever I think is one of the most moving depictions of the solitary individual that I know. Handke perfectly realizes his own haunting story in cinematic form. I have had no luck finding the movie on video, but someday surely I shall be able to see and admire it again. A terribly neglected masterpiece.

Peter Handke was best known as a novelist,playwright and screenwriter of many of Wenders' early films(he went on to write "Wings of desire" nine years later)when he made this,his debut feature.Few novelists make the transition to director easily but this film is remarkably assured for a first effort.Edith Clever,the German actress who starred very memorably for Eric Rohmer as "The Marquise of O" plays the housewife who one day announces that she wants a divorce from her husband.No reasons or explanations are ever given;the viewer can only speculate about her state of mind as the film proceeds in a series of beautifully shot, reflective scenes photographed by Wenders' usual cameraman Robby Mueller.The static camera-work and long takes are reminiscent of Japanese master Yasujiro Ozu.

Of the many films by Peter Handke (either alone or with his partner Wim Wenders) this may be the most appealing. It is also not recommended for modern viewers accustomed to Hollywood's rhythm -it is long, slow paced and even difficult to follow sometimes. I strongly recommend viewers to read the book too, although they may not find too many additional clues there, for Handke's style is to reflect the character's actions rather than their thoughts (which, by the way, should be the perfect cinematic approach). Some people have wasted their time especulating about the woman's reasons to divorce her husband: the french essayist Gilles Lipovetsky even said that her "lack of good reasons" is a sign of modern life's emptiness. In fact, we can not say she does not have reasons: only we are not allowed to see them on the screen. One might even think that Handke himself did not care to build the woman's inner thoughts (and if he did, he sure did not share them with us). The movie, and the book, are about communication between us, or at least this is one of its possible readings. Do we really know what is on other people's mind, even people real close to us? The answer is no: we can only talk of what they tell us, or what we might hint, but how many times had we been completely wrong about somebody? The movie defies the usual assumption of an omniscient camera: the woman would not share her thoughts with the viewers, and this leaves us with a sense of discomfort. We feel compelled to find motivations that are just not there. Just the fact that the movie makes us think about it would be enough to qualify it as a masterpiece.