Kamikaze 89 [1982)

Here is a strange case.

I thought I was watching a movie by Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

The first I had ever seen.

But I was not.

And I still haven’t seen a Fassbinder movie per se.

This movie was directed by the late- Wolf Gremm.

Gremm might be most well-known for the 1980 film Fabian.

For that movie, Gremm adapted a work of Erich Kästner.

Kästner was always a bridesmaid and never a bride.

Nominated four times for the Nobel in literature, Kästner nevertheless was an important writer in that he used cinematic techniques in his literature.

Think about that for a second.

What might that mean?

Jump cuts, anyone?

‘Tis now that we pay homage to the great Jean-Paul Belmondo.

AND to my favorite drummer ever:  Charlie Watts.

Back to Kästner.

The Nazis burned his books.

These book burnings were instigated by (Psaki) Goebbels.

Kästner may not have really been a man of much integrity.

He wrote for UfA in 1942 under the pseudonym Berthold Bürger.

But you may know Kästner most for a Hollywood adaption of one of his children’s books:  The Parent Trap.

Made twice.

Which brings us to our film by Wolf Gremm.

It’s true:  Gremm and Fassbinder were close friends.

And I was tricked because Fassbinder is the all-consuming star of Gremm’s masterpiece Kamikaze 89 (alternately Kamikaze 1989).

Like a German version of Godard’s Alphaville.

Fassbinder is 100% Lemmy Caution.

But this whole thing needed a premise.

And that story was provide by Swedish author Per Wahlöö.

Before there was Stieg Larsson, there was Per Wahlöö.

Active between 1965 and 1975, and focusing on his character detective Martin Beck (a Stockholm policeman), Wahlöö collaborated with Maj Sjöwall on ten novels featuring Beck.

Like Erich Kästner, Wahlöö and Sjöwall were leftists.  

Communists.

Marxists.

Not unusual in Sweden.

You will find the same idealistic naïveté in the biographical details of Steig Larsson.

Gremm’s film did well as Fantasporto in Portugal.

And for good reason.

Because it is a fucking masterpiece!

The soundtrack is even by Tangerine Dream.

Edgar Froese.

Lester Bangs would have been proud.

Bangs died about three months after this film came out.

We see Brigitte Mira.

We see Nicole Heesters.

Someone briefly gets naked.

We might even see Fassbinder’s junk briefly.

I’ve gotta hand it to Xaver Schwarzenberger.

This film is stunning.

It pops!

Like a more punk version of Nicolas Roeg’s work on Truffaut’s Fahrenheit 451.

Schwarzenberger was (and is) perhaps the equivalent of Godard’s Raoul Coutard.

So what?

The world, in general, has not heard of Wolf Gremm.

So this film must be discussed in relation to Fassbinder.

Was Fassbinder as good a director as he was an actor?

I don’t know.

Was Fassbinder as good a director as Gremm?

I don’t know.

Did Fassbinder ever make a film as good as the masterpiece Kamikaze 89?

I don’t know.

Something else should be noted.

Fassbinder himself died two months after Kamikaze 89 was released.

Which is to say, a month before Lester Bangs.

Let’s talk about New German Cinema.

I have devoted plenty of time to my favorite (the Nouvelle Vague aka French New Wave).

But I do not recall ever having broached the topic of Neuer Deutscher Film.

I will say this.

I think Werner Herzog may be the most overrated filmmaker of all-time.

Right next to Tarantino.

I hate to fucking admit it, but Tarantino (whom I hate) has WAY more talent than Herzog.

But hey:  my favorite director ever is Godard.

We first join Fassbinder about 1974 with Ali:  Fear Eats the Soul.

Eight years later, Fassbinder would be dead.

At age 37.

From a cocaine/barbiturate overdose.

I have lived seven years longer than Fassbinder.

Fassbinder crammed his career into his 30s.

Bangs died of an (accidental?) overdose of an analgesic opioid (Darvon), Valium, and cough syrup.

Bangs was 33.

Someone else important died at that age.

Bangs had a great mustache.

Fassbinder had a weird beard.

A nasty, seven-day stubble.

But Fassbinder fucking had style!

1975 saw him come out with Fox and His Friends.

Fassbinder was married for two years.

He then divorced.

I feel that.

Ingrid Caven.

A beautiful lady.

They say.

Hanna Schygulla.

Godard’s Passion.

1982.

There’s a reason I like Fassbinder.

I think.

Because Fassbinder liked Godard.

The Merchant of Four Seasons.

This precedes my earlier introduction.

1971.

The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant.

1972.

Fassbinder was bisexual.

He bought Günther Kauffman, who appears in Kamikaze 89, four Lamborghinis over the period of one year.

“calculatedly provocative”, they called him.

A verbal kamikaze.

I feel that.

The Tenderness of Wolves.

1973.

As actor.

I have focused on films available in the United States.

On iTunes.

I am.

Pauly Deathwish.

Twenty years coming.

10/11.

-PD

 

Crocodile Dundee [1986)

Alice Springs.

Lockdown.

Pine Gap.

Original cover: space research.

HAARP.

SIGINT.

14 years on Australian territory without Australian access to certain facilities.

1966-1980.

Cryptography still boxed out.

Even with 5VEY.

Alice and Wonderland.

Menwith Hill.

Hats.

1966.

Geraldton.

Misawa.  GCHQ Bude.  Morwenstow.  Cornwall.  North Yorkshire.  Western Australia.  Northern Territory.  TAT-14.  Katwijk.  Dunant live two months before election.  Owner:  Google.  Major NSA bugged out.  Grace Hopper to Bude.  Owner:  Google.  Yellow/AC-2.  NSA.  Bude.  Owner:  Lumen.  Nuclear-hardened repeater station at Widemouth Bay. Crooklets Beach.  Sugar Grove.  NRQZ.  Yakima.  Buckley SFB.  BSFB.  Colorado.  Waihopai.  Tangimoana.  CFS Leitrim.  CFS Alert.  Nunavut.  CFB Gander.  NFLD.  Masset.  Diego Garcia.  Lackland.  LEMONWOOD.  CARBOY.  Cloud chamber bowls.  Gough Whitlam thinking out loud.  Like JFK.  Ghislaine Maxwell.  Robert Maxwell.  NASA Arnhem Land.  Uluru.  Ayers Rock.  Two ticks on a dog.  Wallaby.  Marines in Darwin.  RIP Wally.  Just another sheila at the billabong.  Steve Irwin.  Walkabout.  Truffaut.  451.  Crowdsurfing.  Bon Scott.  Paul Hogan wrote the story.  Get Stallone.  Time for New South Wales to get angry.  Delta variant is bullshit.  https://www.bitchute.com/video/qs9X8Blr4Ucv/

Married the same woman twice.  Divorced her twice.  Then married the stunning Linda Kozlowski.  Paul Hogan on the tele in U.K. and South Africa.  Foster’s Lager.  Shrimp on the barbie.  Winfield cigarettes.  Good shit.  Conservative.  Family-oriented.  Less violence.  Could be liberal or conservative.  Capital cities.  Regional Australia.  Could do a tour with 25 stops.  Time to get angry, Sydney.  Australia is a COVID embarrassment.  Canada and the U.K. are neck and neck for second worst COVID approach.  Get loud, Australia!  Come on!!  For fuck’s sake.

Why is Australia so tamed? https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2021/apr/25/how-australias-global-gold-standard-on-gun-control-is-being-eroded 

The “gold standard of gun control”.  Blech.  Port Arthur.  

False-flag 1996 (April):  https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Port_Arthur_massacre_(Australia)

And in the U.K.?  Scotland.  Gotta screw over the Scots.  Dundee.  Dunblane.

False-flag 1996 (March): https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dunblane_massacre 

Dumbasses.  Fucking globalist twats.  But we are not abandoning you, Australia, because we fucking love you.  And same to you, beloved Scotland! https://soundcloud.com/paulydeathwish/australia-here-i-come-original

That’s not information warfare, THIS is #INFORMATIONWARFARE .

Who’s the enemy?  Lies.  WAKE UP, AUSTRALIA!!!  https://staceyrudin.medium.com/unrestricted-warfare-lockdown-as-a-new-concept-weapon-in-the-post-nuclear-age-670086b834a9 Time to get really fucking angry.  This is the hill to die on.  Your lives have been ruined.  Take back your country!  Lockdowns do not work.  Look at Florida.  Look at Texas.  The variants are #scariants .  By no means take the booster shots.  https://www.bitchute.com/video/qs9X8Blr4Ucv/ Know your variants.  Learn from this former Pfizer VP and chief scientist for allergy and respiratory.  THIS IS (by deduction) nefarious.  There is no explanation which fits other than depopulation.  Be strong, mates!  We are pulling for you and rooting for you.  Take inspiration from us here in Texas as we take inspiration from you.  AC/DC.  INXS.  Be the rebels your criminal ancestors would want you to be.  Time to get penal colony on this lockdown bullshit.  Take to the streets and peacefully protest.  Make your voices heard.  Show us how loud you can be.  Get creative.  Let’s go!  Enough!!!

-PD

Lola Montès [1955)

Throughout human history, many strands of activity have intertwined.

Let us take but two and ponder them for a moment:  romance and war.

Ah, romance…

What is romance nowadays?  Is it a glossy paperback with dog-eared corners?  Is there a mane of red hair?  A swelling bosom?

Or is romance chivalry?

After you.  Je vous en prie.

No.

Romance has not survived.

Who are we kidding?

For romance to have survived, love would also have had to survive.

But wait…

I see…here and there.  Is that not love?

Ah…romantic love.  A different thing.

I assure you, dear reader, if you have made it this far into my ridiculous litany of theses that you shall be rewarded for your efforts.

What we have here is the final film by the great Max Ophüls.

I have heard this picture described as a flawed masterpiece.

Pay no mind to such estimations.

This is the product of a genius spilling his guts onto the celluloid canvas.

Film.  Celluloid.  When did it start?  When did it end?

Once upon a time, film was flammable.

And our film is certainly flammable.

Martine Carol, who plays Lola Montès, is one of a kind.

This particular performance…I must admit, this is one of my favorite films…such a powerful experience.

But Carol is not alone on the grand stage.  No…  This production would not be the breathtaking spectacle it is without the incomparable Peter Ustinov.

Ustinov is the ringmaster.  As in circus.

The important point to note is that Ophüls made a psychological metaphor of the circus…and created a film which is probably the longest extended metaphor ever captured by motion picture cameras.

But it is not a typical circus.

It is a nightmare circus.  A cusp-of-dream circus.

Every shot is effused with symbolism.

The little people…haunting Oompa Loompas…little firemen from a Fahrenheit 451 yet to be filmed.  Bradbury had published in 1953.  But it would necessitate Truffaut in 1966 to make the thing so eerie.  It is that specific vision…the firemen on their futuristic trucks…which Lola Montès prefigures.  The little people.  From Freaks by Tod Browning through Lola Montès to the cinematography of Nicolas Roeg.  And the tension of Bernard Herrmann.  From Psycho to Fahrenheit 451.  And even Oskar Werner (who plays a sizable role in Lola Montès).  From here to Truffaut.

But the nightmares are only horrible because her life was so vivid…Lola Montès.  First with Franz Liszt.  And then with mentions of Chopin and Wagner.  Even Mozart…

This was romance.  A different time.

What love would sustain a warrior in battle?

Simple love.  Honest love.

And yet, what love drives a man to the edge?

Romantic love.  The femme fatale.  Why is it that we never hear of the homme fatal?

All kidding aside, I want to make a very serious point about Lola Montès.  It is my belief that this film represents an admirably feminist perspective the intensity of which I have seen nowhere else than in 4 Months, 3 Weeks and 2 Days (4 luni, 3 săptămâni și 2 zile).

For 1955, Lola Montès was a harrowing epic.  Because Max Ophüls was a true auteur, it has lost none of its wonder…even in our loveless, edgy world.

 

-PD