Menu (2022) | Notes

“All except Margot have been carefully chosen, and all are about to become players in Slowik’s elaborate opera of humiliation, self-loathing and revenge.” (The NYT)

Directed by Mark Mylod —the lead director of Succession with 13 episodes. It’s a film about nerds and cults. The focus is food; the whole eating experience. Its genre, horror/thriller/comedy, is something that I don’t know much about. I watched this film thanks to the joy of watching Glass Onion and joking about it together with a friend. Glass Onion was an action/thriller/comedy as I understand. I thought of watching another thriller in a closed space. I saw Mark Kermode also drew a parallel between the two films.

The service class resentment is nice to see in a popular movie but it wasn’t as intricately described in the film compared to how it depicts the niche interest in food, for the super-rich. The temple, Hawthorn; and the executor, Chef Slowik. I saw a YouTube video-essayist reading the cult as an allegory of the influencer culture, pretty contemporary.

The characters are varied in terms of their relationship with this unique dinner and food. There are top-tier restaurant critics, tech bros who really like to have a bread, a food-nerd and an apostle of Slowik, his coincidental date, an uninterested movie star, and another wealthy couple who just attends the dinner as if it’s regular fine dine. The exquisite dinner is presented as an activity for the ultra-rich and it costs $1250 per person. Considering the crew, the organization, the number of the customers (12)… Not sure whether the “$1250 per person” is a high profit margin business or not, considering the accommodation costs of the whole crew, especially if they are also well-paid cooks.

What went well: the whole orchestration of the kitchen crew and their commitment to Slowik, the suicide of the sous-chef, initial introduction of the island, the daily life of the crew, inter-titles about the dishes, oh my dayum! cheeseburger scene, “more than you deserve, less than your desire” punchline…

I think the cynical people who also like Jiro: Dreams of Sushi would enjoy it. The producers probably knew and planned it from the beginning.

Some Letterboxd favourites:

“never thought i would leave a film being surprised that cannibalism wasn’t involved”, sophie

“even service workers get their own midsommar”, The Jay of Water

“She beat the menu monster by saying can I haz cheeseburger”, Megan Bitchell

“The Menu is the only film bold enough to ask the question: what if Ratatouille was directed by Ari Aster but with a half-baked execution and was neither as fun nor sharp as it thought it was?”, Hungkat

“he seemed a lot happier running that hotel, maybe should have stuck with that”, Benjamin Rosser

Berlin Chamissoplatz (1980) | Notes

Berlin Chamissoplatz, with an overt word-play reference to Döblin’s novel, was made interestingly in the same year Fassbinder adopted the novel to the TV series. 1980, a cinematic year for Berlin’s famous squares… It was the first film I saw from Rudolf Thome. Der Philosoph (1989) and Tagebuch (1975) are mentioned first on his director page on IMDb. He has a pretty low profile on the website where many of his films have less than 100 votes, which makes it more interesting.

The opening shot might be the best one in the film. Starting on a high distance shot of the roofs, the camera pans continuously making a couple of turns while descending slowly and gives an overview of the neighbourhood. Once the camera focuses on the street, there’s a live music performance next to a gathering against the urban transformation. It’s mostly the children who are watching the performance. The protagonist, Anna, who’s recording the event, appears in the audience, and then starts doing an interview with the architect, Martin, who’s working on the transformation project. Anna is one of the residents who is trying to struggle against the transformation and renovation of the old buildings, gentrification of the area. After the interview, she goes to Martin’s office to learn more about the status of the project and the state of affairs about her own flat. Then they fall in love. The urban transformation story starts to become a backdrop or a minor political tension in the film as it focuses more into their relationship.

Some trivia:

  • “Bleibt nicht einsam, motzt gemeinsam”
  • Music credits mention Ohpsst, but I couldn’t find their songs online. I only saw an album called Ohpsst from 1977 by Klaus Henrichs, Ludolf Kuchenbuch, and Mikro Rilling.
  • The punk piece played on the street in the opening is Mein Typ, by Evi + die Evidrins, from 1980.
  • During the first scene shot in her flat, Anna opens the window next to her desk. Her window looks directly to a wall, just after 3-4 meters, same as my old flat. It’s really convenient to open the window any time in this kind of flats, despite the claustrophobic feeling in general. When she opens the second one, a music is heard from the street, the Eurovision piece of Ajda Pekkan, Aman Petrol, from 1980.
  • To build up the relationship between Anna and Martin, both characters are portrayed with their lovers in dull situations. Both of them lack passion, but the scenes are a bit boring.
  • “Did you see that film with Cary Grant yesterday,” Anna is having a chat with a flatmate while the annoying neighbour is playing with the TV transmitter, what was his purpose in the film?
  • Chamissoplatz 8 and 3, Arndtstraße 15.
  • Godot’s, right down the road in the Willibald-Alexis-Straße (more addresses)
  • Wannsee trip: wow they really preserved that beach for more than 40 years
  • Dinner at Fidicinstraße, and then cinema. They watch Céline et Julie vont en bateau: Phantom Ladies Over Paris (1974) and the selected scene is “Oh, the sun!”, another thing that hasn’t been changed at all in the city.

Ruben Östlund in Criterion’s Closet

Uploaded to YouTube on Jan 23, 2015, by criterioncollection.

I want to start thinking about Östlund’s latest movie Triangle of Sadness, with his videos and video recommendations. He has a couple of funny YouTube videos and interviews. The one where they watch the Academy Awards foreign film shortlist announcements is tragically funny. Triangle of Sadness felt a lot like a Buñuel film, and this recording has some clues. The video is from Criterion Collection’s series, where they invite film people to visit their collection where they can get some free films. The guests are mostly filmmakers, but there are also actors, screenwriters, etc. The common denominator is probably the love for film. I’ve been a follower of this series for some time since it gives me a great moment in every video where the cinephile experiences the encounter with tens of classical films, and each person reacts differently. My favourites are Leigh, Huppert, Varda, Jenkins and Martel. Some of them show anxiety, while most of them are fascinated. Some glance through the shelves and pick the first film that interests them. The others, mainly the older filmmakers, prepare the films before the shooting and give a presentation on the pre-prepared personal selection. In the last instance, every Criterion closet video shows a different cinephile physically encountering a good selection of the film history.

In this mythical room of world cinema, Östlund starts the conversation with: “When it comes to my influence, I have looked a lot on YouTube”. He mentions how he checks the references on YouTube for the films he made, gives the famous example from Force Majeure, the crying scene of Tomas. The first absurdity for me is to praise YouTube videos in a room of classical films. It even feels like Östlund, with his satiric/cynical style, challenges the collection with a counter-argument. So what does he have to say?

  • He first suggests the helper video for Force Majeure, with his prompt “worst man cry ever”, and the first video I found is Best Cry Ever? Worst Cry Ever? –Intervention with 1.3M views, uploaded on April 23, 2010. There are also longer versions.
  • The second one is “idiot spanish bus driver almost kills students” which leads to the video Idiot Spanish busdriver almost kills students. One of the early YouTube videos that was uploaded around two years after the platform was built, on December 10, 2006, has 3.5M views now. He doesn’t mention, but he’s probably inspired by this video during the fantastic finale of Force Majeure.
  • Next, “battle at kruger” leading to a documentary footage of Battle at Kruger, again a pre-history YouTube flick. Uploaded on May 3, 2007, has 88M views now. It’s an eight-minute drama of a “battle between a pride of lions, a herd of buffalo, and 2 crocodiles at a watering hole in South Africa’s Kruger National Park while on safari.” (as the video description portrays). I see this battle almost everyday in my life.
  • I sadly couldn’t understand the last one. I googled a bit, tried to listen to him at 0.25x but couldn’t get the last word. It’s something like “taxi driver int…” but, no relevant results.

We’re just at the end of the first minute of his video of 06:46 minutes long. But this may be enough as an introduction. Right after the YouTube recommendations, he mentions his anxiety about being in this room, supported by his background which was not in film but in ski movies. Just like the other cinephiles in the Criterion closet, he releases this tension with a personal confession and starts talking about the films in the closet. And that’s the end.

p.s. DAILY LIFE ONBOARD A NORTH POLE CRUISE vlog for the fans of Triangle of Sadness.

We Might As Well Be Dead (2022)

Wir könnten genauso gut tot sein (We Might As Well Be Dead)
Directed by Natalia Sinelnikova
2022, 1h 33m

“A high-rise building near the forest is famous for its carefully curated community. When a dog disappears and her daughter refuses to leave the bathroom, security officer ANNA faces an absurd battle against an irrational fear, that slowly spreads amongst the residents and rattles this utopia with a view.” — Rotten Tomatoes

It starts with an intriguing opening where a nuclear family with a 10-year-old son walks in the forest with axes in their hands. There’s a single tall futuristic building on the horizon where they go towards. Their quest unfolds in a minute or two: they are here for a flat interview. While the security, Anna, is showing them the flat, they seem desperate to move in. The father kneels down, begs, and puts his son’s head above the parapet. At this moment, it’s not clear why this family is out on a limb. But the protocol Anna adapts hints at the idea that this flat or the building is a privileged place. On the one hand, this ceremonial interview, the hyperbolic shots and mise-en-scène is a precursor of some allegorical storytelling; on the other hand, I couldn’t keep myself from thinking that it’s just a random flat interview in Berlin where dozens of people struggle and engulfed while not showing any physically noticeable reactions.

As the story develops, the ‘high-rise’ building is introduced as a perfect place to live with full security, distant but respectful neighbors, and soothing leisure activities. A pornographically enhanced gated community. But as anyone might expect, the spell is broken at some point.

Initial associations: Ben Wheatley’s J.G. Ballard adaptation High-Rise (2015), completely superficially Yuriy Bykov’s Durak (2014), and Yeşim Ustaoğlu’s Pandora’s Box (2008).

to be continued…

p.s. I. TODO: Find the choir OST that plays in the opening and the ending. The Internet didn’t help me at this point.

p.s. II. A Letterboxd user HolyMotor whom I love their reviews left this comment with a 1/5 star, and I auto-translated:

“Passive-aggressive-obscure Lanthimos fascism/dystopia lumberjack/slow-motion bingo with pretty poster.

Germany’s Counter-Cinemas, Julia Hertäg (Notes)

I took some notes from Julia Hertäg’s “Germany’s Counter-Cinemas” article published in New Left Review. All the quotations in the notes are from the article:

Hertäg, J. (2022, May/June). Germany’s Counter-Cinemas. New Left Review, 135. https://newleftreview.org/issues/ii135/articles/julia-hertag-germany-s-counter-cinemas


Germany’s Counter-Cinemas

The author gives examples of the export-driven cinema in Germany with the films about coming to terms with its past, containing films about Nazism, the Stasi, the fall of the GDR, and the Red Army Faction. The style: “conventional, Hollywood-style cinematographical narratives” [1] Following the mainstream style conventions, one difference is that these films are partially state/publicly funded. Some quotes about the consequences: films that “stay inside a corset of conventional narrative” or “cineastic low-fat quark”.

Machinery of consensus

Referring to the Oberhausen Manifesto in 1962, which called for free filmmaking for the artists. In the late 1960s, following France’s model, the state started to fund films for their cultural value. Artists whose early works were funded by ZDF or ARD: Fassbinder, Reitz, Kluge, Farocki.

In the 1990s, the competition for a larger audience starts instead of striving for cultural prestige. Meanwhile, the power of ZDF/ARD bureaucracies increases. In general, the films needed state funds together with TV channel co-production. The factors: “in addition to cultural and aesthetic criteria, potential commercial success and promoting the ‘positive development of the industry’ should be key factors in the allocation of funds”. The political/ideological influence comes from the responsibility of the state-TV channels to serve the ‘public interest.’ How do you define it?

The film-funding machinery works, but it is not easy for non-mainstream cinema producers to get into it since it’s against free filmmaking – does that exist anyways? On average, the films have 5-6 maybe more institutions who fund them, more the number more people who intervene in the production process. The production of the films takes 6-7 years. Hard to get approval. “’market-conforming’ bureaucracy” (Merkel) or ‘dictatorship of mediocrity’ (Lars Henrik Gass). A public service aiming for commercial success.

Wrapping political enlightenment in history (Ulrich Köhler) or serving a menu for an international audience with series like Babylon Berlin and Deutschland 83/86/89. On the national TV front, Eldorado KaDeWe: Jetzt ist unsere Zeit. Hertäg’s remark: “… in fact rather uninterested in the era it is depicting; its narratives of sexual liberation, deprivation and excess might as well be set in the here and now”.

Berlin School and after

Directors challenged Germany’s self-image and economic miracle in the 70s and 80s: Fassbinder, Kluge, Reitz, von Trotta. In the 90s and early 2000s, Berlin School was a counter-example of mainstream cinema. The term arose with Schanelec, Petzold, and Arslan being shown in festivals after some stagnant period for alternative filmmakers. It first appeared in Die Zeit in 2001, finding a similarity between the films of these directors: “…a liking for ellipsis and for keeping a distance; a similar way of dealing with space and time; the same diffuse bright light. Most important, ‘all assertion has gone, replaced by observation’; in a country whose filmmakers were ‘diligently learning streamlined storyboarding’, this was a blessing”.

Berlin School:

  • presentist cinema
  • resisting the psychological realism, conventional dramatic structure and well-worn political tropes favoured by the system
  • exploring forms of realism, ‘a sensation of the reality of the present’ (Marco Abel)
  • set ‘in the here and now of unified Germany’ (Marco Abel)
  • low budget, easier to shoot
  • subtle alienation effects
  • loosely bound second generation: Hochhäusler, Grisebach, Heisenberg, Ade, Köhler (~10 directors, ~50 films)
  • styles diverge in time (Hochhäusler)

Hertäg aims to conceptualize “‘Post-Berlin’ cinema of the 2010s and 20s, including recent films by the School’s founding members”. Two trends:

  1. Outward turn
    1. Toni Erdmann (2016): Romania, a multinational corporation
    2. Western (2017): Bulgaria, German workers, construction
    3. Transit (2018): Marseille, re-contextualizing the refugees of the 1940s today
    4. Le Prince (2021): German art world and a businessman from DRC
    5. Giraffe (2022): Polish workers on a Danish Island building a tunnel to Germany
  2. Historical turn: “experimenting with new aesthetic strategies for the representation of the past”
    1. Barbara (2012): the GDR of the early 1980s
    2. Phoenix (2014): post-war Berlin
    3. Undine (2020): present-day Berlin and the world of Romantic mythology
    4. Blutsauger (2022): in 1928
    5. Gold (2013): a German party’s journey to the Klondike of the 1890s
    6. Fabian (2021): Weimar era, based on Erich Kästner’s novel from 1931
    7. Die Andere Heimat (2013): 1840s, with Rhinelanders as economic emigrants
    8. In My Room (2018): the future, resembling a distant past

“The heterogeneity of German counter-cinema over the past decade defies rigid categorization, even in terms of its oppositional stance.”

Outward turns

Grisebach’s film Western is examined thoroughly by Hertäg. Its relation with the ‘western’ genre as an ‘eastern’, masculinity, encounter with the settler/colonialist, Germany in Eastern Europe, water rights, etc. are some core themes. In terms of style: it looks like a documentary, with landscape shots, spontaneity, non-professional actors, and physicality over psychology. A contemporary take on the “trans-border encounters.”

Ade’s film Toni Erdmann “examines managerial-level social stress and the highly gendered world of white-collar immaterial work.” The pressure of the competition, corporate sexism, her father, etc. Ines tries to surrender and fight back. Takes a look at the personal/professional interiors and interactions. A Berlin School rule is followed: “avoid psychology as causality.”

Re-framing past and present

A recent focus of filmmakers draws apart from the focus on the present in early Berlin School films. Petzold is a major example with Barbara, that does not conform to the official narratives of the GDR with extra elements that are lacking in films like Das Leben der Anderen. In Phoenix, the Jewish woman is not recognized by her ex-husband. He betrayed her to the Nazis and now trying to appropriate the heritage by using her as a doppelgänger. Transit and Undine also “indicate a certain urgency in finding new ways of relating past and present that go beyond naturalistic representation.” There are detailed analyses of these films, which I won’t go into here: “The tension between immersion and contemplation, being and seeing, experience and understanding, is always present in Petzold’s films.”

Fractured epochs

Dominik Graf, as an opposite to Petzold, the seduction cinema. He likes popular genres, also worked in TV a lot. He made Dreileben as a dialogue with Petzold and Hochhäusler, not far from the Berlin School. Hertäg looks at his latest, Fabian oder Der Gang vor die Hunde.

A fractured, conflicted, distracted, dark, hand-held, spooky, glance-based, fast-montage filmmaking. Unlike “Babylon Berlin, Graf avoids the iconic sites of the capital.” The opening scene (the long-shot moving from today to past, in a metro station) and the Stolperstein “reminds us of what lies ahead of these characters.”

Capital as a genre

Here, Hertäg starts with Radlmaier’s Blutsauger and mentions L’etat et Moi. Since I noticed this similarity with my shallow knowledge, I’ll block quote this part. After this, one can find an analysis of Blutsauger.

“His graduation film, Selbstkritik eines bürgerlichen Hundes (Self-Criticism of a Bourgeois Dog, 2017) already demonstrated this new approach, shared by others of his cohort, including Max Linz, Radlmaier’s contemporary at the DFFB. Their work explores the boundaries of what is possible within the German funding system, making films with multiple references to theory and cinema history, explicit political analysis combined with comedy and slapstick, and a visual language that on many levels obstructs conventional realism. (In Linz’s L’État et moi (2022), which reverses the coordinates of past, present and future, a time-travelling exile from the Paris Commune lives as a refugee in contemporary Berlin, where he appears as an extra in Les Misérables.)”

Note: See the article for more on Blutsauger analysis.

Different voices

Most films differ from the earlier ones in dealing with the past and transnational matters. Abel was mentioning statis and mobility for the Berlin School, the new wave focuses on capital and labor, or work. They also continue trying alternative ways of filmmaking economically. “While the Berlin School as a ‘school’ may have come to an end, its network of collaboration and exchange continues to exist.” Still, the attempts are mostly individual, a Oberhausen-like manifesto is needed to have drastic changes.


[1] Examples: Good Bye, Lenin! (2003), Der Untergang (Downfall, 2004), Sophie Scholl (2005), Das Leben der Anderen (Lives of Others, 2006), Baader Meinhof Complex (2009), 13 Minutes (2015), Der Staat gegen Fritz Bauer (The People vs Fritz Bauer, 2015)

P.S. By the way, I found out that Christoph Hochhäusler has been actively writing a blog called PARALLEL FILM, since 2006. I’m reading it with auto-translate now, let me leave that here too.