. . . ist der beste französiche Film, den ich bisher gesehen habe.
Dies zu begründen, würde den Rahmen eines Blogeintrags sprengen.
Es müsste ein Essay her.
2. Juni
Oder... ein Annäherungsversuch in Loglines:
Logline 1:
In einer Sinnkrise reagiert das kreative Unbewusstsein eines Werbekonzepters nur noch mit Werbespot-Seqeunzen.
Heidi 2.0 meint: ...der beste französiche Film,
sind da denn auch die Malle-/Chabrol-Flicks mitgezählt?
Freitag, 29. Mai 2009
Sonntag, 24. Mai 2009
Godards Mepris
Mepris, ein Film von unendlicher Traurigkeit, mit einer unendlich traurigen Bardot.
Aber ist es wirklich so, dass die U.S.A. einem noch in der Antike verwurzelten Europa, das doch erst Hitler überlebt hatte, nun den Rest gibt?
Dass, wo Goebbels den Revolver zu ziehen drohte, wenn er Kultur hörte, der Amerikaner das Scheckbuch zückt?
Kultur versus Kohle - - oh bitte.
Haben oder hatten wir, oder Frankreich oder Italien je diesen tiefen, ungetrübten Bezug zu den ewigen Werten der Antike?
Sind die Griechen selbst jemals das Ideal gewesen - auch sie kannten Verzweiflung, Zerrissenheit und suchten Antworten in ihren Tragödien und Dramen. Darüber hinaus waren Griechen auch ganz schön gerissen. Sie liebten die gekonnte Täuschung und das Vexier - - sei es in mathematischen Spielereien oder in der Rhetorik.
Ich selbst habe ein ganz eigenes Problem mit Film, egal ob US oder Europa: Menschen die darin verwickelt sind, hören auf zu kommunizieren. Es gibt nichts mehr zu sagen.
Geld und Produktionkosten, ROI und Technik diktieren, das, was im Geschäft verlautbart werden muss, darüber hinaus gibt es nichts zu sagen. Der Dialog ist tot.
Und das Geschäft trägt eine tiefe Verachtung in sich gegenüber Allem was kein Insider ist - meist gut kaschiert, aber immer präsent.
Theater ist verglichen damit richtig ungebührlich lebendig.
Heidi 2.0 schaut sich gerade einen Film an und steht für einen Kommentar leider nicht zu Verfügung.
Aber ist es wirklich so, dass die U.S.A. einem noch in der Antike verwurzelten Europa, das doch erst Hitler überlebt hatte, nun den Rest gibt?
Dass, wo Goebbels den Revolver zu ziehen drohte, wenn er Kultur hörte, der Amerikaner das Scheckbuch zückt?
Kultur versus Kohle - - oh bitte.
Haben oder hatten wir, oder Frankreich oder Italien je diesen tiefen, ungetrübten Bezug zu den ewigen Werten der Antike?
Sind die Griechen selbst jemals das Ideal gewesen - auch sie kannten Verzweiflung, Zerrissenheit und suchten Antworten in ihren Tragödien und Dramen. Darüber hinaus waren Griechen auch ganz schön gerissen. Sie liebten die gekonnte Täuschung und das Vexier - - sei es in mathematischen Spielereien oder in der Rhetorik.
Ich selbst habe ein ganz eigenes Problem mit Film, egal ob US oder Europa: Menschen die darin verwickelt sind, hören auf zu kommunizieren. Es gibt nichts mehr zu sagen.
Geld und Produktionkosten, ROI und Technik diktieren, das, was im Geschäft verlautbart werden muss, darüber hinaus gibt es nichts zu sagen. Der Dialog ist tot.
Und das Geschäft trägt eine tiefe Verachtung in sich gegenüber Allem was kein Insider ist - meist gut kaschiert, aber immer präsent.
Theater ist verglichen damit richtig ungebührlich lebendig.
Heidi 2.0 schaut sich gerade einen Film an und steht für einen Kommentar leider nicht zu Verfügung.
Dienstag, 12. Mai 2009
Clooney's Clayton
Towards the conclusion of the movie Michael Clayton, George Clooney tells Tilda Swindon,
I'm the fixer,you do not kill me, you buy me.
And when Tilda proceeds to negotiate the price for Clooney's /Clayton's silence, thereby admitting a string of crimes she's committed to the - you'd never guessed it - wired - Clooney/Clayton, he responds,
You're fucked. Shows her the wire and gets her mug shot with a mobile.
So many of us have seen the row of flicks where Clooney "does conscience". We began to hope that Clooney represented the New dynamic, ethical Hollywood where actors take charge of their voice and get across their moral convictions through their roles.
But now, you, the stylish one, the epitomy of cool.... you do commercials for Nestlé.
You propose for instance, that instant coffee is the way to go.
When all the baristas around the globe have been taking the good people of this world for a walk on the Wild Side of coffee consumption for quite a while now. So where you been????
But it's much, much worse, Clooney, Clayton. Because....
...Nestlé? Georgy boy? The Nestlé? The bad baby food Nestlé?
Yet again, where have you been????
Because what's even worse is that Nestlé does Water now, Georgy boy, big time. Water, the natural resource on which all human life depends is currently being gobbled up and bottled up and away from the agricultural poor. So that Nestlé can sell it to only those who will pay and pay.
And your mug stands behind this, Clooney/Clayton. Behind the the Nestlé instant coffee mug to be exact. Yep, there it is, a mug shot of you, globally advertised. It's in the ether, it's positively on the wire.
You're fucked Clooney/Clayton.
Hypothetically, even if you'd claim, moral righteousness does not always pay for itself and needs to be financed, did it have to be Nestlé, George?. Could you not have done this any other way?
Nope, I am afraid the verdict's out - - you're the fixer and you have been bought, this time for real.
Heidi 2.0 muses:
What's with the filthy language, anyhow?
I'm the fixer,you do not kill me, you buy me.
And when Tilda proceeds to negotiate the price for Clooney's /Clayton's silence, thereby admitting a string of crimes she's committed to the - you'd never guessed it - wired - Clooney/Clayton, he responds,
You're fucked. Shows her the wire and gets her mug shot with a mobile.
So many of us have seen the row of flicks where Clooney "does conscience". We began to hope that Clooney represented the New dynamic, ethical Hollywood where actors take charge of their voice and get across their moral convictions through their roles.
But now, you, the stylish one, the epitomy of cool.... you do commercials for Nestlé.
You propose for instance, that instant coffee is the way to go.
When all the baristas around the globe have been taking the good people of this world for a walk on the Wild Side of coffee consumption for quite a while now. So where you been????
But it's much, much worse, Clooney, Clayton. Because....
...Nestlé? Georgy boy? The Nestlé? The bad baby food Nestlé?
Yet again, where have you been????
Because what's even worse is that Nestlé does Water now, Georgy boy, big time. Water, the natural resource on which all human life depends is currently being gobbled up and bottled up and away from the agricultural poor. So that Nestlé can sell it to only those who will pay and pay.
And your mug stands behind this, Clooney/Clayton. Behind the the Nestlé instant coffee mug to be exact. Yep, there it is, a mug shot of you, globally advertised. It's in the ether, it's positively on the wire.
You're fucked Clooney/Clayton.
Hypothetically, even if you'd claim, moral righteousness does not always pay for itself and needs to be financed, did it have to be Nestlé, George?. Could you not have done this any other way?
Nope, I am afraid the verdict's out - - you're the fixer and you have been bought, this time for real.
Heidi 2.0 muses:
What's with the filthy language, anyhow?
Mittwoch, 6. Mai 2009
A Most Wanted Man
A Most Wanted Man is John LeCarré at his most wicked.
LeCarré is weaving a historic storytelling tapestry of Bayeux dimensions.
Except there are no heroes. None at all. No Halley's comet either. It's dark horses at every turn..
The book weaves, embroiders and intertwines shards of plots we're all too familiar with.
What's new for me personally is that the outcome does not interest me at all.
Yet I keep on reading, riveted to the book page by page.
The work is non-putdownable.
For LeCarré is enfolding a panoramic vision of our time and how both, the ordinary and the courageous individual will interact in it. How the everyday quality of everything has been altered irrevocably by the banality of the fact that anything, anyone, anywhere is bound to become an object of secret service scrutiny, then perhaps, further down the line, a guilt-ridden participant in the game of intelligence gathering and even worse, an unwitting agent provocateur exploiting his or her familiar surroundings. Guided of course by well-meaning, gravely well-meaning, experts of the game.
Previously, spy scenarios were the thrilling exception to the backdrop of orderly, ordinary life of the cold war era. But now they have become the banal, universal, omnipresent occurrence of the post cold war life. No one, but really no one, is except from the danger of being sucked into spying on one's neighbours. We are all subject to this current day fallout. No shelter either.
The German title then sums it up and spoils the real plot, which is meant to gradually show to us “how it is now, and what we have become” without explicitly saying it - - we've all become puppets - - Marionetten.
Translating this book full of British vernacular sayings - - what an interesting challenge.
Moreover – this is an observation of German officialdom from the outside, by a foreigner.
Just as Lecarré had deconstructed with ever so gentle brush strokes such legends as British Upper Class Fairplay, Foreign Service Righteousness and Benign Corporate Power in his work The Constant Gardener, he is at it again. This time, making seemingly innocuous observations of bits and pieces of behaviour that characterize the conduct of clandestine public servants in Germany as well as around the world... Never ever does he allow himself cheap shots. No crude stereotyping of German authoritarianism there.
It's more a case of unsuppressed sensibility and awareness. That in itself creates its own anarchy and irreverence without aiming to do so.
So what's the short of it? If Kerouac announced the era of On The Road, LeCarré unveils the era of On The Radar, and discusses the moral imperative of behaving ethically, even if one is completely under control and under duress. The ubiquitousness of being spied on, lied to and threatened by the - once civilized - state in the course of the constant War On Terror. The utter futility of acting ethically and yet having to try. The utter preprogrammed failure and danger of wanting to behave like a decent human being.The tragedy of it. The knowingness of it. The bearing it. The wound that does not heal. The sadness, the sense of loss, that just ... is. That we all share, eventually.
If the Atomic bomb sent Kerouac on the road, living in the moment, the bugged and buggered lives we live now, release us into a nothingness borne with Chaplinesque dignity. That is the short of it. My spoiler.
Heidi 2.0 muses
Reporter to Gandhi, What do you think of Western Civilization?
Gandhi to reporter, ever the optimist, It will be a good idea!
LeCarré is weaving a historic storytelling tapestry of Bayeux dimensions.
Except there are no heroes. None at all. No Halley's comet either. It's dark horses at every turn..
The book weaves, embroiders and intertwines shards of plots we're all too familiar with.
What's new for me personally is that the outcome does not interest me at all.
Yet I keep on reading, riveted to the book page by page.
The work is non-putdownable.
For LeCarré is enfolding a panoramic vision of our time and how both, the ordinary and the courageous individual will interact in it. How the everyday quality of everything has been altered irrevocably by the banality of the fact that anything, anyone, anywhere is bound to become an object of secret service scrutiny, then perhaps, further down the line, a guilt-ridden participant in the game of intelligence gathering and even worse, an unwitting agent provocateur exploiting his or her familiar surroundings. Guided of course by well-meaning, gravely well-meaning, experts of the game.
Previously, spy scenarios were the thrilling exception to the backdrop of orderly, ordinary life of the cold war era. But now they have become the banal, universal, omnipresent occurrence of the post cold war life. No one, but really no one, is except from the danger of being sucked into spying on one's neighbours. We are all subject to this current day fallout. No shelter either.
The German title then sums it up and spoils the real plot, which is meant to gradually show to us “how it is now, and what we have become” without explicitly saying it - - we've all become puppets - - Marionetten.
Translating this book full of British vernacular sayings - - what an interesting challenge.
Moreover – this is an observation of German officialdom from the outside, by a foreigner.
Just as Lecarré had deconstructed with ever so gentle brush strokes such legends as British Upper Class Fairplay, Foreign Service Righteousness and Benign Corporate Power in his work The Constant Gardener, he is at it again. This time, making seemingly innocuous observations of bits and pieces of behaviour that characterize the conduct of clandestine public servants in Germany as well as around the world... Never ever does he allow himself cheap shots. No crude stereotyping of German authoritarianism there.
It's more a case of unsuppressed sensibility and awareness. That in itself creates its own anarchy and irreverence without aiming to do so.
So what's the short of it? If Kerouac announced the era of On The Road, LeCarré unveils the era of On The Radar, and discusses the moral imperative of behaving ethically, even if one is completely under control and under duress. The ubiquitousness of being spied on, lied to and threatened by the - once civilized - state in the course of the constant War On Terror. The utter futility of acting ethically and yet having to try. The utter preprogrammed failure and danger of wanting to behave like a decent human being.The tragedy of it. The knowingness of it. The bearing it. The wound that does not heal. The sadness, the sense of loss, that just ... is. That we all share, eventually.
If the Atomic bomb sent Kerouac on the road, living in the moment, the bugged and buggered lives we live now, release us into a nothingness borne with Chaplinesque dignity. That is the short of it. My spoiler.
Heidi 2.0 muses
Reporter to Gandhi, What do you think of Western Civilization?
Gandhi to reporter, ever the optimist, It will be a good idea!
Samstag, 2. Mai 2009
Labour Day Demonstrations Hamburg, Berlin
Clashes with the German police more violent than ever.
Some augured that in Germany social unrest was hovering ante portas with the underclass growing restless as an outcrop of reckless banks being rescued by the state - thus in turn by people's tax Euros.
That may be but the underclass of Germany literally stayed put throughout Labour Day and shall continue to do so.
Underclass being defined as "those people" who stay unemployed for longer than one year.
This is what happens to them:
They forfeit the right to move beyond a perimeter of 50 miles of their registered address.
Though they may get permission to do so from their caseworkers, disobeying the rule will be sanctioned by slashing the already low alimentation. Which case officer would give permission to travel to a May Day demonstration? Only one who is sickened by her job on moral grounds and wants to get fired anyhow.
This underclass forfeits any claims resulting from decades of payments into compulsory unemployment insurance. Instead "those people" receive Grundsicherung - - the basic minimum sustenance for staying alive and clothed.
In order to receive that they must give up substantial portions of their privacy and civil rights.
Because the state must be able to determine at all times if criteria of eligibility are being fulfilled. Those criteria are so detailed and intertwined with anything a person does in everyday life that, as a result, there is no longer any such thing as "everyday life" for a person on the receiving end of this ration.
Further "those people" may not receive any monetary gifts from friends, mothers, brothers ....in order to complement their meager allotments. Lest the same amount be deducted from the Grundsicherung.
Doing the math, that means the underclass neither has the money nor the liberty to travel to any of the Labour Day demonstrations.
Well done, I'd say.
Labour Day demonstrations are are dubbed "May Day" demonstrations in Hamburg, that very old and very sophisticated seafaring city. There are a great many things sinking indeed.
Heidi 2.0 muses:
Can one be underclass if one dwells on top of the mountain?
Some augured that in Germany social unrest was hovering ante portas with the underclass growing restless as an outcrop of reckless banks being rescued by the state - thus in turn by people's tax Euros.
That may be but the underclass of Germany literally stayed put throughout Labour Day and shall continue to do so.
Underclass being defined as "those people" who stay unemployed for longer than one year.
This is what happens to them:
They forfeit the right to move beyond a perimeter of 50 miles of their registered address.
Though they may get permission to do so from their caseworkers, disobeying the rule will be sanctioned by slashing the already low alimentation. Which case officer would give permission to travel to a May Day demonstration? Only one who is sickened by her job on moral grounds and wants to get fired anyhow.
This underclass forfeits any claims resulting from decades of payments into compulsory unemployment insurance. Instead "those people" receive Grundsicherung - - the basic minimum sustenance for staying alive and clothed.
In order to receive that they must give up substantial portions of their privacy and civil rights.
Because the state must be able to determine at all times if criteria of eligibility are being fulfilled. Those criteria are so detailed and intertwined with anything a person does in everyday life that, as a result, there is no longer any such thing as "everyday life" for a person on the receiving end of this ration.
Further "those people" may not receive any monetary gifts from friends, mothers, brothers ....in order to complement their meager allotments. Lest the same amount be deducted from the Grundsicherung.
Doing the math, that means the underclass neither has the money nor the liberty to travel to any of the Labour Day demonstrations.
Well done, I'd say.
Labour Day demonstrations are are dubbed "May Day" demonstrations in Hamburg, that very old and very sophisticated seafaring city. There are a great many things sinking indeed.
Heidi 2.0 muses:
Can one be underclass if one dwells on top of the mountain?
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