artihcus022 BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ is the stuff of legend. It was unavailable(until recently), mythical(and still is) and talked about with awe and mystery(and will continue to do so). It is adapted from a modern German classic by Alfred Doblin(a close friend of Bertolt Brecht) and it is set in the decade of the peak of German Modernism, a modernism that was irrevocably separated from the post-war Germany by 15 years of war and slaughter. The one single attempt by the greatest artist of post-war Germany to bridge the gap was a 15hour film, divided into 13 chapters and one epilogue, broadcast on television but crafted and composed with the most beautiful, most refined, most political language that cinema is capable of. BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ is a real thing of beauty on the small screen but on the big cinema it would be something else, a prodigal son returning to his father's welcoming arms.Fassbinder claimed that Alfred Doblin wasn't especially interested in the Alexanderplatz(Berlin's key commercial district which lapsed to East Germany in the Cold War), the lives on the street came through the descriptions of the refuges in which the character's lived. The 14 episodes are minutely detailed observations and recreations of places - apartments, bars, offices, restaurants.Franz Biberkopf(Gunther Lamprecht) is the most tormented character in film history since Chaplin's Tramp or even Vivien Leigh's Blanche DuBois, he is punished by society and worse he punishes himself abjectly. The spectacle of misery and horror is given tender beauty and rare generosity by the director and the actor. People still laugh, they still tell jokes, they still have sex and they have their beer and schnapps but each person he meets will point their thumbs down the road to death. Some do it by direct cruelty, others do it by the equally subtle cruelty of friendship and love. Fassbinder said that love is the most insidious form of social repression, yet he also longed for the unconditional love that human beings are capable of, even if in his world this love leads to death and madness. This longing is clear in the touching performance of Barbara Sukowa's Mieze, who is dressed up as a ballerina yet is realistically attuned with her status as a prostitute and of Franz's status as her pimp. It also manifests itself in the perplexing relationship between Franz and Reinhold(Gottfried John), two doubles who from their very first sight are drawn to each other and bound in soul though never in body. When Mieze enters the story, the triangle is complete and the stage is set for the apocalyptic finish.This isn't a lot of plot for a 15hour film yet watching the film one can't say that that the film is too long. This is an epic film, a film that has to be lived in, to understand the characters. We have to feel the apartment and sad corridors. We have to feel these refuges as tactile presences if we are to understand the world of these characters - the Germany of the late 20s which is well on its way to the collective hysteria that installed Hitler and his gang in office and plunged the world into the most cataclysmic event of the last 100 years. This Germany of the 20s was of course shown in films like DOKTOR MABUSE, PANDORA'S BOX and of course in the key reference for Fassbinder, Murnau's DER LETZTE MANN. Fassbinder summons up the feel of the 20s despite limited sets and a tight schedule. One feels the despair and hysterical fury which is implied in those films but brought out into the open in this film.Fassbinder encompasses diverse, eclectic visual styles, for this film he limits himself to the naturalistic approach he displayed in earlier films like EFFI BRIEST or ALI, the exception is an alley of brothels in Episode 7 which has the artificiality of a Brecht production and of course the famous epilogue. Structurally, the early episodes of BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ(up to Episode 6 when Franz loses his arm) play as single pieces while the later episodes work better when seen end-to-end. The final four hours of Alexanderplatz(Episodes 13, 14 and Epilogue) add up to a single whole. As a standalone piece the best part is Episode 4(A Handful of People in the Depths of Silence - A perfect subtitle for the film) where the tender warmth and compassion between Franz and Baumann(Gerhard Zwerenz) as well as the lyrical and poetic narrative employed in that episode(anticipating Franz's breakdown in the epilogue) creates the effect of a powerful music piece.The joy of BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ, and I use joy without irony in talking of this sad and unhappy story, comes from the mere presence of the actors, all of them players in Fassbinder's stock company(the finest repertory since the death of John Ford) show up in this film. We see Gunther Lamprecht at first, a bit player in previous films given the role of a lifetime here, we see Brigitte Mira as the non-judgmental Frau Bast, a role written for her. Then there are the ladies, a honour roll that encompasses Hanna Schygulla(in one of her best performances), Karin Baal, Barbara Sukowa, a one scene cameo by Irm Hermann and finally just when you thought someone is missing in flies Margit Carstensen as an angel clad in golden tights in the Epilogue. Among the men, we have Gunther Kauffmann, Volker Spengler, Gottfried John(whose intense schemers in the early films seem to have fused into making Reinhold Hoffmann the most scary presence in German Cinema since Murnau's NOSFERATU) and Fassbinder's friend the novelist Gerhard Zwerenz who plays the small but unforgettable role of Baumann.Above them is Rainer Werner Fassbinder(who appears with his angels in a one-shot cameo in the epilogue) whose vision achieves a clarity and a vitality bearing the weight of an artist at the height of his powers.

federovsky First the positive. Fassbinder's direction is superb - The camera glides expressively from one composition to another, always precise, revealing, artistic. No amount of effort is spared in the creation of these shifting compositions; the intelligence and sensitivity of the camera contributes as much as the words do to character and meaning. There's also a terrific intensity about it. The performances of the main players are remarkable – Fassbinder seems to be squeezing them like lemons.This still disappointed though. I expected something richer, quirkier, funnier, more meaningful – in short, smarter. Surprisingly, this plays it perfectly straight, which in itself causes confusion. It was hard to believe that our man Biberkopf was supposed to be a totally well-meaning chap, or that Mietze was just a silly good-natured girl. Seriously misled by the unrelentingly sombre, murky atmosphere, we are inclined to look (mistakenly) for deeper, darker things in everyone. On his release from prison at the beginning Biberkopf comes across as barely sane, if not totally deranged, violent and immoral. He vows to make amends and lead a good life but he never really endears himself to us after that brutal introduction. He's as thick as two planks, he's fat, certainly not good looking, for much of the story he only has one arm, he is often cantankerous and easily goes off his head completely – he's a klutz and a galumph. I didn't much like Biberkopf to begin with and barely did so by the end when I finally realised I was supposed to.Bizarrely, Biberkopf attracts a constant succession of doting women. These women, though they are viewed mainly as chattels, are the most interesting characters in the film, but one suspects that both Doblin and Fassbinder really don't understand heterosexual women at all. Quite what these beautiful women see in Biberkopf is a mystery, and it frustrates our efforts to understand him and what the film is about.Fassbinder extracts amazing performances in what a was a very quick shoot for its length. Gunther Lamprecht as Biberkopf dominates the film but something of this length really needs more than one focus.The length is another major problem. There is simply no reason for this to be so long in terms of both the narrative and the meaning – in fact the length works against both. Rather than giving itself time to breath, it often allows itself to tire. Almost every scene could have been done more economically. It is easy to identify entire scenes which could have been skipped, especially the repetitive ones.The next problem is the gauzy sepia effect which, wearyingly, is maintained throughout. This creates an antique world remote in time and relevance, as if we are looking at people already dead and gone, an old photograph full of forgotten faces. This distances us both visually (apart from the grimy overlay, we are often looking through murky windows or reflections in tarnished mirrors) and emotionally. The lack of humour is another problem. Not a single laugh in a film of this length? Not even irony? The narrative seems aimless in places due to repetition and lack of notable events. Apart from Biberkopf's stint at selling shoe-laces (one of the best sections), his various jobs are monumentally dull (such as standing in the U-bahn selling newspapers). There is one particularly tedious episode when he gets involved in politics. The last two episodes are much the best, when Gottfried John's diffident gangster Reinhold really comes to the fore. Reinhold is a much more complex and interesting character than Biberkopf. There is an extraordinary scene in which he lures Biberkopf's girl into a liason in the forest which shows us aspects of human nature that rocks our notions of propriety, skewing and denting human behaviour into barely recognisable shape. The scene is long and intense but it's memorable and is the only scene of real value and interest you might extract from the entire film.Homosexual aspects are present but kept in the background. Biberkopf has a tender relationship with his old friend Meck, whose every appearance brings forth a melancholy (and woefully predictable) leitmotif as the two men stare deeply at each other. There are also strong hints that Biberkopf is emotionally attached to Reinhold despite the disaster that the man wreaks on his life. Perhaps therein lay the seed that attracted Fassbinder to the story – self-destruction through a relationship that dare not speak its name – does not even acknowledge its existence.The music, characterised by a mournful trumpet solo unfortunately transported me to Yorkshire each time. Meck in particular looked like he'd stepped out of Last of the Summer Wine, and from what we saw of Berlin, this could easily have been Leeds. The mise en scene – partly thanks to the murky visuals - is mainly oppressive. In general, the early critics were right, it is all too dark on the eye.In conclusion, an overlong adaptation of a novel that clearly is more concerned with literary fireworks than cogent observations on life. Some big mistakes were made in the mise-en-scene that almost made the film unwatchable, but it is generally redeemed by brilliant direction and acting.

randallhurlbut This mega-movie is an expressionist, modernist masterpiece that combines the best of Wellesian cinema (expressionistic) with Godardian cinema (modernist). The (Godardian) voice-over snatches of random news items and medical health items (referenced in the prior 'review') are simply being faithful to Dobler's novel, which is a somewhat Germanic version of Joyce's Ulysses. But instead of the Joycian modernist take on the travels of Odysseus, Dobler's novel presented us with a modernist take on the Passion Play.This film is not for simpletons. Just like a long, great novel… there will be stretches that will bore you a bit… and other stretches that are riveting and will break your heart.Two major points: 1) Don't get too caught up with what some people see as a form of homo-eroticism between Franz Biberkopf and Reinhold. Although expressionistic, Fassbinder has presented the material with enough objectivity that different people will come away with different subtexts. Fassbinder has explained the film as a love story between Franz and Reinhold… but Fassbinder was bisexual.Franz is a grown up naive child. One could easily see Franz's 'curiosity' about Reinhold as a longing for an absent father. Eva, the one constant in Franz's life, could represent his longing for an absent/replacement mother/big sister/protector. How else to explain Franz's reluctance to mate with her? 2) The two-hour epilogue contains an extended surrealistic pastiche that upsets 90% of the people who like the previous (more realistic) 13 hours.Biberkopf's brain snaps like a twig! How better to explain the mixture of chemicals… the bad cocktail suddenly coursing through his head? It's brilliant in it's off-puttingness! Bad cocktails don't taste good! Some people don't understand how Lou Reed and Kraftwerk can be on the soundtrack when Franz (in insane delirium) is living in 1928: People… that's what they call 'modernist'. That's what they call… 'expressionist'. Were you expecting Robert Flaherty in a Fassbinder film? Epilogue: See the film. If THE DECALOGUE is the great cinematic short story collection… BERLIN ALEXANDERPLATZ is the great cinematic novel.

Dr Jacques COULARDEAU Nothing can be more melodramatic than German melodrama, particularly that of the beginning of the 20th century. Franz Biberkopf's story is such a deep, thick and sickening melodrama and Fassbinder makes it so dense, so heavy that we are totally overwhelmed by this hardening cast-plaster, a melodrama contained between Biberkopf's release from the prison where he has spent four years for killing his girlfriend, Ida, to the end of his life as a concierge in some factory after the trial in which he is a witness against the accused, his friend Reinhold who had assassinated Franz's last girl friend Mieze, after he was released from the mental institution to which he had been committed after the crime. Biberkopf is the perfect victim who is ready to do anything he is asked to do by the people he considers his friends at the moment of the request. He is totally dependent on women and at the same time reveals he is very particular about them and actually loves only very few. Eva of course, his permanent love who lives with a rich Herbert and carries his child for a few months. Ida, who he killed out of rage one morning. And Wieze who will be killed by Reinhold. The second characteristic of Franz Biberkopf is that he has the brain of a beaver, as his name implies. He is not very swift but he is faithful and he can suffer anything from his friends, though at times he may be taken, over by a fit of rage that makes him blind and murderous, though he can easily be stopped. But to survive in Germany in 1928-29 he is doing what he can, anything he comes across: selling newspapers, including the Nazi newspaper, selling erotic literature, selling shoelaces, being part of a gang of thieves, and being a pimp. Then the whole story is nothing but details of a sad ,life that can only be sad. Fassbinder makes it so dense, so packed with hefty details and events that we don't see the thirteen episode flying by. And yet the masterpiece of this long series is the epiloque. Then Fassbinder describes what is happening in Biberkopf's mind after his seizure of insanity when he realizes his Mieze was killed by his supposedly best friend who had caused him to lose an arm when this Reinhold had tried to kill him, the infamous Reinhold. In this epilogue, Fassbinder becomes the most baroque, or even rococo, of all screen artists you can imagine. He brings Biberkopf down into the deranged world of his insanity. He is cruder than Bosh, crueler than Goya, and he depicts the physical dereliction to which Biberkopf is reduced in that mental institution, the haughty condescending carelessness of doctors and personnel, and the haunted mind of his. And in this haunted nightmare he experiences, Fassbinder shows how he is tortured by Reinhold and a few others who have used him in life, how he is tortured by both his lubricity and his refusal to acknowledge it, how he is physically tormented in all kinds of cruel physical punishments repeated ad eternam, a vision of hell borrowed from Dante of course. The point here is that Biberkopf will come out of the institution when he reaches some personal peace in that insanity, in no way the consciousness of his own victimization, but a dull taming of his inner world into a senseless, meaningless and emotionless routine that will transform him into a faithful and reliable concierge looking after cars, lost and abandoned forever in his blessed solitude of the body and the soul. This epilogue is luxuriant and so dense that we just wonder how it could go on like that, over and over again, each situation of victimization opening onto another as naturally as a door you push open and drop closed behind you. Sickening and thickening at the same time, so that you feel totally buried in that grossness and in that cruelty. You are becoming Biberkopf and at the same time the torturing insanity because Biberkopf appears to you as deserving his fate, his insanity, hence your scourges and your violence. It is amazing at this moment to see how Fassbinder manages to make you be a double voyeur and transport you both into Biberkopf himself who cannot rebel in spite of you inhabiting him with the justification to rebel, and thus into the torturing insanity to punish him for not rebelling or to incite him to rebel. The only film-maker Fassbinder can compete with in this perverse mediatic transfer is Clive Barker in his early films or in his Hellraiser series, except that Fassbinder adds an ancient Greek dimension to that delirium that is vital since it will lead Biberkopf to surviving in a mixture of the International, patriotic sings and emerging Nazi military rites, rituals and marching beating tempos.Dr Jacques COULARDEAU, University Paris Dauphine, University Paris 1 Pantheon Sorbonne & University Versailles Saint Quentin en Yvelines