Mephisto (1981)

Life imitates art with a cruelly ironic twist of fate for a small-time German theater actor during the rise of the Nazi party in pre-WWII Germany. 

István Szabó's Oscar winning "Mephisto" (1981), adapted from the Klaus Mann novel is a delicious twist on the Deal with the Devil motif. Born to play the character of Mephisto in a stage adaptation of the legend of Faust, Hendrik Hoefgen (Klaus Maria Brandauer) is an immensely talented and ambitious Hamburg actor. As pure evil (in the form of Nazi dictatorship) spreads its dark wings and descends upon them, Hoefgen finds out the hard way, that his performance of a lifetime would end up being that of a weak, Faust-like puppet in the hands of a higher Mephisto, the ruling Nazi General (Rolf Hoppe). As the General dictates Hoefgen's every move, he tempts him into giving up his very conscience in return for a respectable position and unprecedented success. Individual freedom, thought and morality be damned, as long as stardom and social standing is guaranteed.

But in hindsight, what Hoefgen does is very human. As his wife leaves him to flee the country, and some friends and colleagues join the resistance, fearing for the future of theater and arts, Hoefgen sticks to his guns, more out of fear and a strictly apolitical stance. He always maintains that it's none of his business who comes into power, as long as he gets to pursue his first love, that is acting. It dawns upon him rather late, but he anticipates it anyway, that he may find himself at the juncture where he may have to choose between success and freedom. In the Nazi rule, an end to freedom means an end to everything. When one loses their right to speak out against what seems morally wrong to the sane mind, when one has to forego their conscience and be a mute spectator as their friends are taken away to be bumped off for only raising a finger in protest, isn't it indeed, but an act of selling one's soul?

By his own admittance, Hoefgen is weak, as also pointed out by the General during their first meet. "It seems the secret of acting is to portray strength, yet one is weak", he remarks and laughs cheekily while commenting on Hoefgen's rather limp handshake and an undeniable kindness in the eyes of the man wearing the mask of Mephisto. Despite this, he makes his best efforts to save his friends of leftist tendencies and others, including the half German - half African girlfriend from being targeted for being racially impure. 

Acting is a central motif of "Mephisto" and its context and significance observes a shift through the film and through Hoefgen's gradual descent into hell. On a literal level, Hoefgen is this passionate actor, who regards his talent and art above everything else. It is interesting how his own viewpoint about his profession sees a marked change, from the beginning of the film, when at one point he asks "Do you know what it means to be an actor?" to a quote later (mentioned at the end of the review) in which it seems that he deems it a mere trifle in a drastic change of context.

"An actor is a mask", Hoefgen says. Sure enough, acting entails masking one's real self. In Szabó's film, acting also becomes a metaphor for conforming. With the Nazi party and its oppressive regime coming into power, individual thought and freedom is suppressed. Becoming a party to and complying with their authoritarian ways becomes the new role taken on by an individual, although not by their own accord. And this is where Hoefgen occupies the very center of the conflict between an individual and his/her actor counterpart, for Hoefgen is that passion-driven man who favours the actor in him more than anything else.

Acting is in his blood, and so when it comes to compliance, in return for success, it's merely a way of life for him; a transition, yes, but to a higher stature in the same profession, although it comes as a product of some degree of fear and the inability to uproot himself from his motherland. Aside from being a symbolic core of the story, Hoefgen is literally put in the center of two circles in two haunting scenes, one being a sort of Devils's dance, with a few guys wearing the masks of Mephisto encircling and dancing around him; and the other visually brilliant sequence, in which he is almost blinded by spotlights flashed from all sides, manoeuvring him like giant puppet strings.

Szabó balances the heavy thematic content of the film with an immaculately constructed screenplay that is quite detailed, but never skips a beat. A sense of foreboding and impending terror gradually makes its presence felt as the carefree mood of the beginning starts to dissolve into an air of fear and doom, and hints are sprinkled that the Nazis may come to power, threatening to change things for the worse. There are awfully bad things happening, but they are merely suggested and any instances of war-related or political atrocities are mostly kept off screen and out of the scope of the film, and yet the impact is never diluted. There is no room for any exaggerated melodrama and not a single wrong or awkward note is ever struck.

The theatrics are reserved only for the great Klaus Maria Brandauer, who delivers a heartfelt, electric performance to trump all performances. He showcases an amazing range, from going way over the top in his theater histrionics to shedding that silent, contemplative tear once in a while for a friend who may have lost his life for standing up against an autocratic system. Klaus takes on dual roles of Mephisto and Faust at the same time, an all-powerful actor, admired and sought after in the social circles for his titular role and also the meek pawn that is Faust, exalted or derided at the whim of his employer. And what a devilish employer too, with that cherubic face and yet an unmistakable malice evident from behind that sweet smile, a part played to perfection by Rolf Hoppe.

With immaculate casting and flawless writing and direction, this "Mephisto" (1981) casts a captivating spell 'til the credits start rolling. It has that rare ability to make us root for a very flawed hero, without itself taking any sides. And hence, we find ourselves simply nodding in agreement when Hoefgen breaks the fourth wall and exclaims, "What do they want of me? After all, I am only an actor!"

Score: 10/10

Ali: Fear Eats the Soul (1974)

Sometimes there is a rare, sublime beauty to be found in the simplest of things. Rainer Werner Fassbinder's "Ali: Fear Eats the Soul" (1974) is one such example of a motion picture that is deceivingly simple. It is a film that despite its seemingly ordinary exterior makes a strong emotional connect with the viewer, almost effortlessly! It is not wrong to use the word 'effortlessly' either, in this context, for believe it or not, this extraordinary work of cinema was completed in a span of 15 days on a meager budget and it was meant to fill the time between two of the filmmaker’s bigger budget productions, Martha and Effi Briest!

A portly old cleaning woman Emmi (Brigitte Mira) and a tall, dark, handsome Moroccan immigrant auto mechanic Ali (El Hedi ben Salem), almost 20 years younger than her form an unusual and instant bond one rainy night in a bar. One thing leads to another and the two eventually get married, leaving a whole community of prejudiced German neighbours and co-workers of Emmi seething in disgust at this forbidden relationship. How the couple cope with the increasing hostility around them, is the crux of Fassbinder's simple but powerful story.

Do not be fooled by the plot summary. It may sound far too basic, perhaps even a regular, done-to-death melodramatic romance, but it is far from all that. It has the special touch of Fassbinder for one. The mise-en-scène drips quality in every frame. The storytelling is crisp and scenes are structured in a manner as to get a strong point across to the audience. The very first scene, for instance, begins on an unsettling note, as Emmi enters a bar with a majority of foreigners/Arabs. As they stand transfixed, giving Emmi a deadpan stare, Emmi who is standing at a distance, looks back in silence, as an Arab tune plays in the background. This makes for a fantastic opening sequence that practically yells out the main theme of the film; that of an inequality among humans.

Ali and Emmi belong to vastly different backgrounds but both are lonely individuals, somewhat tortured within, owing to the lives they lead. Emmi is a cleaning lady and every time she tells someone that, they look down upon her! She has children who don't see her often, all married and leading their respective lives. Ali on the other hand, seems to have come to terms with his position in society . That isn't even his real name, by the way; his actual name is El Hedi ben Salem M'Barek Mohammed Mustapha and Ali is a generalized name given to him, perhaps because of his dark-skinned Arab ethnicity! 

He lives in a single room with five other Arab buddies and hence the Germans refer to them as the swine and their habitats as pigsties! Some ignorant folk even doubt if they wash themselves regularly! Ali is used to this kind of treatment and is rather blunt about his status in society, as he declares in his broken German language "German master, Arab dog"! Although it is he that reminds Emmi that "Fear eats the soul", somewhere his own fear of being a foreigner is eating him up from inside as we later learn.

The racial bigotry reaches shocking proportions post the marriage of these two tormented characters as Emmi's children shamelessly express their disapproval for Ali in front of him. Co-workers refuse to include Emmi with them, neighbours start avoiding her, staff at restaurants stay aloof and reluctantly attend to them when they enter to dine, and the friendly neighbourhood grocer who has had Emmi as a regular customer, refuses to serve the couple anymore! The loneliness of these characters and the inevitable distance between them and these prejudiced individuals is portrayed through shots deliberately designed for such a purpose. 

Often there are long shots, showing either Emmi or Ali or both together, distant from the viewer as if the viewer is made to feel like one such biased individual or as a mute spectator to the sad state Emmi has landed herself into, merely for falling in love and getting married to the only man who didn't look down upon her when she revealed her profession to him and who offered her a much needed companionship. There are also some deliberate shots in which we see either Emmi or Ali from a distance through a door, again, stressing on the alienation of these characters. At times, mostly Emmi is seen from behind bars of windows or staircases, reflecting her emotional imprisonment.

The couple's tough journey to make it through their marriage that draws the ire of almost everyone around them, may seem soap-operatic and exaggerated but it makes for a soul-stirring and mature cinematic experience, confident in its approach. For one, Fassbinder keeps it from falling prey to melodramatic trappings and keeps it restrained, not in the depiction of events, but in the character reactions and handling of the extreme situations the couple are subjected to. 

Secondly, the film's themes reflect personal histories of some actors and Fassbinder himself, having grown up in an atmosphere of immigrant prejudice. Moreover, the actor playing Ali, El Hedi ben Salem was Fassbinder's gay lover at the time. The extreme behavior of discrimination and hypocrisy portrayed in the film might very well be true to reality and far from hyperbole then.

The story takes some surprising and some not so surprising turns as the tide appears to turn, both in the couple's relationship and the attitude of the society toward them. The events are entirely convincing and lead to some thought-provoking moments towards the third act. Some finer examples are how Ali misses the food native to him, and turns to the busty bartender Barbara (Barbara Valentin) for the same and how Emmi unwittingly participates in a mob behavior that actually echoes what she's undergone. 

The best moments of the film are complemented with pitch perfect performances from the two leads. While El Hedi ben Salem aptly displays the deadpan sturdiness of a Moroccan that struggles with the German language, Brigitte Mira charms with her affectionate turn as a woman aware of her old age and who only yearns for comforting companionship more than anything else. Watch out also for Fassbinder himself as the cranky son-in-law of Emmi in an explosive little cameo.

"Ali: Fear Eats the Soul" with its simplicity and astonishing production history is a testament to how spontaneous a filmmaker Fassbinder was. He delivers a poignant and effective masterwork of cinema and at the same time makes his feat seem like a walk in the park!

Score: 10/10

Chinese Roulette (1976)

***NOTE: The following analysis/review may contain MILD SPOILERS regarding some detail in the film, but not to the extent of making the film viewing experience any lesser.***

The universe in German auteur Rainer Werner Fassbinder's bizarre psychological drama "Chinese Roulette" is rather unnerving. In a fantastic opening sequence, a woman and her daughter listen to Gustav Mahler's 8^th Symphony while drolly exchanging deadpan stares and looking out the window. Only one word is uttered by the woman, Ariane Christ (Margit Cartensen) after she lights her cigarette…"Nice?" and soon after, a few others interrupt by joining in, and the ethereal music abruptly ends! The opening sequence is a kind of teaser to what's to follow in this strange Gothic thriller of sorts with some of the most ambiguous characters and character interactions one is likely to witness in a seemingly normal scheme of things in a story set in a normal world.

It is the home of wealthy business mogul Gerhard Christ (Alexander Allerson) who resides with his crippled daughter Angela (Andrea Schober) and his wife Ariane. Angela has a mute governess Traunitz (Macha Meril) to take care of her. Gerhard is off on a business trip (or is he?) and soon as he reaches the airport, instead of catching a flight, he rushes to welcome his lover Irene (Anna Karina) in a warm embrace!

Ensuring that his wife and daughter would be away somewhere else, Gerhard takes Irene to his plush mansion in an isolated location, looked after by a sinister looking Kast (Brigitte Mira) and her sexually ambivalent son Gabriel (Volker Spengler). But little do they know, there is a rather unpleasant surprise awaiting them in the form of Ariane and her lover Kolbe (Ulli Lommel), Gerhard's assistant who unbeknownst to them also land up at the same mansion for some private time together..! The situation reaches the most uncomfortable levels with the entry of Angela and Traunitz into the scene and a rather intriguing face-off ensues…

While one would expect the proceedings to take a melodramatic turn with confrontational scenes between the couple engaged in their own adulterous liaisons, Fassbinder surprises with a rather odd turn of events that guarantee an exceptional film viewing experience. It is rather unsettling how the two couples clearly caught with their pants down laugh it off and shake hands after the initial shock quickly settles down! They even sit together at a dinner table, exchange anecdotes, but a palpable sense of discomfort and tension fills the environment. The minimalist but taut screenplay keeps the viewer in anticipation of what's to come. How would this possibly end? How will the couple react after this initial display of stoicism to their partners' love affairs? The entry of Angela and Traunitz to the ménage a quatre makes things more complicated and add to the intrigue.

But it is not just the plot and the direction subsequently taken by it that is solely responsible for keeping the viewer hooked. It is the strangely fascinating characters, all with an air of mystery about them, all ambiguous to the core, and none that could warranty a full-fledged dissection for clarity! Of course, the intention isn't such. The ambiguity is the focal point here. The interactions are equally oddball with some delicious non sequiturs. This is the kind of family that looks happy on the outside but harbours dark secrets within and lives on assumptions!

So it is no surprise when Angela reveals the kind of feelings she has about the whole business of her parents being party to illicit relationships. We never get a sense of what kind of person each character really is but do know that there is much more to them than meets the eye. And hence Fassbinder repeatedly chooses a clever device of filming his characters from behind glass columns or in mirrors, giving off a fractured, distorted image of each person. Sometimes the angles chosen are such that faces seem to split or merge.

None of the characters are entirely likeable and all of them seem to share questionable relationships, even the most apparently innocuous twosome of the lot, Angela and her governess Traunitz! In a blink-and-miss tiny bit, a blind beggar appears at the door and later it is revealed that he wasn't blind at all, and then drives off in his car parked on the other side! This might seem rather vague and unrelated, but it fits well within the context of how appearances are deceptive and the entire world is living under some kind of illusion.

The setting of the film is such that makes it resemble a gothic ghost story. The huge mansion, rich paraphernalia and decoration, luxurious liquor cabinets, empty surroundings, a view from the window showcasing a refreshing green world, yet there is something inherently bleak about this whole atmosphere. In one scene, the camera pans from the idyllic surroundings and the greens and then stops by a rotting, maggot-infested head of a stag. This perhaps serves as a reminder that all things that seem beautiful eventually die an ugly death!

The ominous aura in "Chinese Roulette" is intensified with lyrical combinations of imagery and poetry like in the instance Angela starts quoting the works of Rimbaud or when Gabriel is reading from his manuscript while the foursome look visibly perturbed. The drama rife with hypnotic imagery and an eclectic score as a fitting accompaniment, is enhanced by clever dialog and brilliant all-round acting. It would be unfair to single out a particular actor when all of them deliver to the fullest, yet Brigitte Mira as Kast and Margit Carstensen as Ariane leave a bigger impression with their stupendous acts.  On the able shoulders of these fine actors, "Chinese Roulette" builds to a startling climax with a titular game of Chinese Roulette in the third act that promises to be a game-changing event, literally! And with an ending more equivocal than the characters, Fassbinder throws a curve ball, yet leaves us with a content smile of having seen something thought-provoking and extraordinary.

Score: 9/10