hanni-lehnen

Keep thinking. That's all you got to do to enjoy this movie. If you're unaware, it's predictable that you will not be able to keep up with Carax. He sends us into a sinister, dark Paris which features the typical sights, but nevertheless is eerily empty. It is a Paris from the eyes of a blind man, who opens the doors to a cinema for us in a great overture.

Monsieur Oscar (Denis Lavant) is not the kind of character who would be considered "stereotype". On the other hand, the roles Monsieur Oscar has to play are classically "stereotype":

1st: The Politician 2nd: The Beggar 3rd: The Motion Capture Artist 4th: The Lunatic 5th: The Killer 6th: The Killed 7th: The Vagabond 8th: The Killer 9th: The Killed 10th: The dying old Man 11th: The melodramatic Lover 12th: The Loser

Why does he play these characters? In a linear explanation, it is said that Monsieur Oscar is an actor. Sure - otherwise he would not die and resurrect again and again, otherwise there would be more tumult around him kidnapping a famous model. Cameras have become tiny over the years, they are not visible anymore. "Holy Motors" works as a film within a film, especially the idea that our lives work the same way (different roles, different people, loneliness, dissatisfaction) is intriguing.

However, there is more to "Holy Motors". The blind man in the cinema, who is played by Carax, for example (I know Carax always wears sunglasses. But remember the blind artist in "Les Amants du Pont Neuf". There's something to it). It is him who imagines all those splendid, heroic and visually unique characters. And is Leos Carax' vision a parable to mankind (we're helpless, we're driven, we're mad, we're vagabonds, we're lovers - we're actors)? Less radically said: All those different shades are within us. Then there's a comment to media: Where are the cameras? Everywhere. I think, the most important conversation takes place between M. Oscar and "his daughter" (?) and reveals another possible interpretation, maybe the overall message of "Holy Motors". The conversation: The daughter was ashamed of herself and did not dance at a party. Embarrassed of this, she did not tell her dad the truth. Consequently, he had to punish her. M. Oscar's punishment is that the girl must be herself and be happy with it, something he seemingly never could manage. Something we must not give up trying.

After attending the premiere of "Cesare Deve Morire", I was not so sure about the movie. It was a good movie, but somehow essayist, rather loose, not catchy. The outstanding performance of Salvatore Striano (Brutus) was striking and rewarded by the audience. The beautiful composition of black and white pictures was of high aesthetic value. It is a very calm movie, the music is nearly minimalistic.

So how come it had a huge impact on me - later? In contrast to most other movies I had seen in Berlin, it was important. Other movies dealt with existentialistic, superficially more important topics than with some prisoners rehearsing a Shakespeare play. Yet "Cesare Deve Morire" had more to say and thus it deserved the Golden Bear. The questions it poses are the same ones as in the Shakespeare play in interrelation with the real destiny of the imprisoned play actors. Even though it is not a particularly spectacular movie, it has the tenor of what makes a strong movie: Importance. The filmmaking is of minor importance, the idea is in the foreground, which is the right decision. The play continues in our minds after the final curtain. Impressive.

This is not only a movie for the thinking man. One is allowed to sit back 80 minutes, laugh a lot and leave the cinema satisfied. There is no need to discuss and interpret, the message is delivered in nicely-served bits of satirist speeches which are easy to follow. Our civilization is based upon lies. So how does Roman Polanski achieve it to present us this cheerless idea in such an incredibly cheerful way?

It's the actors and the characters they play. They are rich, they are cultivated, but not too aloof. One still is able to identify with the characters. The woman with the big heart for Africa played by Jodie Foster and married to the slightly corpulent shop-owner played by John C. Reilly. The other couple consists of the most charming investment consultant played by Kate Winslet and the busy yet stylish lawyer, wonderfully acted by Christoph Waltz. The reason for their little meeting is a fight between two boys. Two civilized married couples having a civilized meeting. If there's something negative, it's sad behind the other's back. But slowly the good attributes become ironically stretched, blurred, we know the roles of the single characters so well that consequently only hate remains. We hate the super-human Jodie Foster. We hate the darling Kate Winslet for her being blatantly drunk and not being able to control herself. We hate John C. Reilly for his diplomacy and simple-mindedness. Only Christoph Waltz remains jet-set. The scene in which he talks to John C. Reilly's mother on the phone is so great you can't draw a border between noble showmanship and sheer arrogance.

Great actors, great story (it reminded me a bit of Clybourne Park, but it was better), not too thoughtful, not too thoughtless - but all chewed. I love the moment of cracking the nutshell of a movie, the moment of realization. Sadly, Roman Polanski left that nutshell out. What remains still is very delightful, though.