Tag: German

Fluid0

Posted on by victorfraga

It’s 2060 and the Aids crisis is finally over, with the HIV virus finally wiped out from the face of the Earth. And it gets better (or worse, depending on how you look at it). The bug had mutated into a gene that can be manipulated into a psychoactive drug once extracted from the human body. So an extensive underground network of fluid slaves has been established. In other words, a prolific sperm factory.

These poor males have to wank non-stop and so that their much-coveted man juice can be harvested and sold off to the joy of recreational drugs users. A little bit like the basement slaves in John Waters’ classic Pink Flamingos (1972), except that there are no babies involved.

Women are also involved: there’s also plenty of urine, sweat and other bodily secretions. Yet the film never feels repulsive. This is nothing like Isabelle Adjani on the subway in Possession (Andrzej Zulawski, 1981). Fluid0 is vibrant with colours, futuristic CGI effects and flashing lights. It’s entirely pleasant and fun to watch. It’s also very sexy. And it’s not just the lights that flash! To boot, digital has a double connotation: there’s a lot you can do with your computer but also with your finger!

The slaves seem to have a lot of fun at what they are doing. Maybe they are also experiencing the effects of the psychoactive drug, for which they provide the vital staple. The factory is populated with all sorts of characters: trans and cis, old and young, male and female, gay and straight, black, white and all of colours of the race spectrum.

There is also a “sexecologist, plus a a “porn terrorist”, although I’m not entirely sure what they do! People are having fun, and penetration is never mandatory. “Enjoy your soft on, no need for an erection”, a female character succinctly challenges the established orthodoxy of our phallocracentric world. Challenging the norm seems is the leitmotif, it seems.

Ultimately, Fluid0 is a dirtylicious, transgressive and futuristic post-porn art piece. The charming indie soundtrack by Aerea Negrot gives it a nice and amusing final touch. It’s not a perfect movie though. The plot becomes subordinate to the imagery way too often, and so the narrative gets a little manneristic. The idea of HIV being converted into a drug in a very interesting one, and I wish this had been explored in more depth. Still, a wet and salacious evening is guaranteed.

Fluid0 is the closing film at the Fringe Queer Film Fest, on November 19th.

Land of Mine (Under Sandet)

Posted on by victorfraga

A war film should never be pleasant to watch, or convey feelings of grandiosity, pride and nationalism. There is no winner: everyone loses out at such conflicts. Land of Mine is extremely successful at highlighting the pointlessness of WW2 in all of its bizarre territoriality and forged allegiances. You won’t leave the cinema feeling enchanted and elated. Instead you will feel shocked and outraged, which is exactly what a war film should do.

The film starts out with Danish Sergeant Carl Leopold Rasmussen (Roland Møller) leading surrendered German troops out of the country in May 1945 and beating a few soldiers in the process. You would be forgiven for mistaking him for a Nazi: he speaks German, screams in a way not dissimilar to Hitler and embraces gratuitous and unprovoked violence. It’s almost as if the hitherto humiliated Danish took pleasure in becoming the oppressor, even if it’s just for a little while.

The Sergeant in then allocated to a beach where he has to supervise 14 German teenagers, who’ve been sent in order to clear some of of the 2.2 million mines placed by the German on the Danish coast – more than in any other European country. These boys are cleaning up the mess that their parents made in their neighbours’ garden. They have little understanding of the conflict. They don’t dream of world domination and instead just long for a job as mechanic upon their return home. But obviously not all of them will survive the ordeal. They are a testament that the Germans may have been prepared to go to war, but they were never prepared to lose the war.

No slippery fingers, shaky hands, hesitant thoughts and vacillating minds are allowed; the consequences of any minor error are obviously disastrous, ranging from severe mutilation to a horrific death. And so these untrained and emotionally immature boys begin to die, one by one. The Danish filmmaker Martin Zanvliet opted to show just one violent and gory death, which is extremely graphic and disturbing in its realism. It does the job of shell shocking viewers extremely well. But because there is no repetition, the violence is never fetishised and exploitative.

At war, there is no room solidarity and compassion, particularly towards the enemy. The sentiments that are the very foundation of our humanity become subversive. This explains why Sergeant Paul exhibits no sympathy for the young boys. He’s at ease in his sadistic skin, and grapples uncomfortably with the feelings of kindness and altruism. But Land of Mine has a very nice surprise in store for you at the very end.

Land of Mine isn’t the only WW2 movie set on an European beach and showing in UK cinemas right now. You can watch the far more celebratory and momentous Dunkirk (Christopher Nolan, 2017) in movie theatres across the UK. Land on Mine is out on Friday, August 11th.

We got diversity all wrong!!!

Posted on by victorfraga

Diversity is not as straight-forward as it seems. We liberals like to think that it is a mandatory requirement for a multicultural, modern and sophisticated society. Yet we often come up with arguments that only serve to perpetuate the most reactionary and short-sighted rhetoric. For example, during the Brexit debate, the discussion around immigrants was almost inevitably linked to their financial and social contribution, something along the lines: “EU citizens have been paying taxes for years, they don’t claim benefits, and so on”. This is a dangerous fallacy.

It’s as if our tolerance of foreigners was entirely contingent on money and, to a lesser extent, social functionality (“they are our nurses, our train drivers, etc”). We have thereby stripped tolerance of its fundamentally altruistic nature. It’s as if we suddenly decided that tolerance has nothing to do with kindness, hospitality or high-mindedness. I have learnt from Rainer Werner Fassbinder’s 1974 classic Fear Eats the Soul (which is out in cinemas this weekend) that this is a very serious mistake with very pernicious ramifications. Tolerance founded upon economic/ vested interests will develop into an ulcer and kill.

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A very downtrodden Emmi is inconsolable by the fact that no one can accept her immigrant lover

In Fassbinder’s world there’s never a happy ending, redemption, a reestablished equilibrium or any sort of feel-good sentiments. In fact, most of his films don’t even have credits at the end. It’s as if Fassbinder suddenly threw an unexploded bomb on our lap and said: “stand up, go home and deal with it”. It’s time to question our most firmly established values, and to recognise our sheer hypocrisy and selfishness even in our most seemingly generous deeds. That’s why Fassbinder is my very favourite director, and I have watched all of his 43 films at least twice each. It’s some sort of spiritual cleansing conducted with the most radical and unorthodox instruments.

So now let’s go back to Fear Eats the Soul and why it’s still so relevant today. The movie tells the story of the unusual romance between the 30-something Moroccan guest worker Ali (El Hedi ben Salem) and a 60-year-old widowed German cleaning woman Emmi (Brigitte Mira). Everyone close to Emmi disapproves of the relationship: her friends, her neighbours, local shopkeepers and even her own children. Fassbinder thereby exposes deeply-rooted cynicism, xenophobia, racism and ageism, with his usual Brechtian streak.

Then suddenly these people change their attitude and begin to embrace Ali, but that’s not because they have changed their prejudices. Their acceptance of the immigrant is entirely related to self-interest, as they have realised that a pair of young and strong hands could be useful in many ways which they did not anticipate. Fassbinder denounces the sheer hypocrisy of social integration contingent on vested interests. The ordeal triggers such anxiety inside Ali that he develops an ulcer that could kill him.

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Emmi and Ali encounter their neighbours, who have suddenly turned very nice

The Brexit narrative has done something similar to immigrants (not just EU immigrants but instead all immigrants, as many pundits willfully fail to make the distinction). The debate around immigration has entirely dehumanised immigrants, and even those supporting immigration often use callous and calculating arguments (“tax-paying, etc”) in order to support their values. We have all become just like Emmi’s friends, neighbours, local shopkeepers and children: we only value the immigrant once our self-interests are met. This is not tolerance, this is not diversity. As Fassbinder put it, metaphorically and also rather didactically, this is an ulcer.

Fear Eats the Soul is out in various cinemas across the UK from Friday March 31st, 2017, when this piece was originally written. The classic is available on Mubi in February 2023,

Centre of my World (Die Mitte der Welt)

Posted on by victorfraga

As homosexuality becomes increasingly acceptable, coming-out dramas are gradually replaced by same-sex coming-of-age stories with little regard to the sexuality of the characters. Such is the case with the German teenage romance Centre of my World, where the gay plot is entirely devoid of the subject of homophobia and any sort social taboo attached to gayness. Another example is the American indie Akron (Brian O’Donnell/ Sasha King, 2016), which showed at last year’s BFI Flare. And there are more movies of the same nature. These films are necessary but their repercussion can also be double-edged: on one hand, we all crave for a world without bigotry and intolerance, and it feels good to breath the fresh air of gay cinema without toxic prejudice. On the other hand, it also feels a little awkward and detached from reality, as there aren’t many place in the world which have achieved this level of equality and respect.

Seventeen-year-old Phil (Louis Hofmann) lives in a ancient mansion called named Visible with his mother Glass and his twin sister Dianne. The three have a very cozy relationship, until one day the mother and the daughter fall out. Meanwhile, Phil begins a relationship with his extremely handsome new classmate Nicholas (Jannik Schümann), despite repeated warnings from his best friend Kat (Svenja Jung) that there is something wrong about the heartthrob. The movie flows seamlessly between present and past, as the 10-year-old twins struggle to come to terms with their mother’s lovers and the mystery surrounding the identity of their real father.

Get ready for an elegant, sexy and thoroughly enjoyable journey into a teenager’s world, more specifically into his first incursion into love. This is a happy-go-lucky, feel-good, clean, conventional and technically accomplished movie. You’re in a manna from heaven if you are an ephebophile (a posh word for those attracted to teenagers; ie most of us!). The camera work is very clever (with jump cuts and fast editing, not too different from a music video), the photography is elegant and sultry (think of a vaguely toned down Pierre et Gilles and you are partway there), plus the soundtrack packed with indie rock is very much fun.

Centre of my World is very beautiful and touching, and never vulgar. But it’s also too perfect: both boys live in astounding mansions, their hair is perfect, their bubble bums are gorgeous, and so is the rest of their body. And of course, there is no homophobia, and everyone (except for Kat) is extremely supportive of their relationship. This sounds ideal, but sometimes it’s hardly relatable. In other words, this is not a very dirty movie.

Another peculiar aspect of the narrative is that it slowly veers away from the gay romance, and the LGBT theme eventually becomes subordinate to something else. Of course this is not a problem: erecting a central pillar of homosexuality is not compulsory for a good film. The problem is that the subplot which ascends into foreground lacks profundity and so the drama at the end of the film becomes a little petty, and the plot becomes somewhat flimsy.

Centre of my World showed at BFI Flare London LGBT Film Festival in March 2017, when this piece was originally written. The film was out in cinemas across the UK in September, and it’s now on BFI Player.