La ragazza terribile

At points this film feels almost comic, but never loses its focus on the important topic of Germans either coming to grips with the past or covering it up. Some modernist filming techniques seem to remind the viewer that the film is very much set in the time of its production (1990, though the story begins in the 1970s) rather than in the distant, black-and-white days of the past that is its most important subject. It's like Verhoeven is saying "the cover-up is NOW."

It is my understanding that the story is based on the experiences of an actual German woman. That being the case, Verhoeven could have written a serious biographical film about this woman's experiences as she struggled to investigate the truth of her town's activities during the Nazi regime. This was the method used in his portrayal of the Scholl siblings in Die Weisse Rose. But I can see reasons for his different approach with this film. The topic of Die Weisse Rose is so heavy for obvious reasons, and there is very little modern controversy over considering them heroes. But as the topic of Das schreckliche Maedchen remains controversial and, for many Germans, difficult to discuss, the somewhat light-hearted approach that Verhoeven takes may open doors for more viewers and more discussion. And again I repeat that the approach does not diminish the topic's importance. He strikes a nice balance.

On another note, this film is also a very good portrayal about a modern woman's struggle to be independent in her work while having a large family. I'm not surprised to see that the positive voting here at IMDB is most prevalent among women in their twenties and thirties.

A local girl decides to venture on a project dealing with the nasty history of her home town. This puts a few noses out of place and her on the bad books. The use of rear projection sets and other creative devices work in telling a political story in a cheeky manner.

Sonja (Lena Stolze) seems like any ordinary person. That is, until she has to research her town's history for a project. In the process, she discovers that her town was heavily involved in the Third Reich. Then, everyone in town not only turns against her, but tries in every possible way to silence her.

Much like another West German film ("The Lost Honor of Katharina Blum"), "The Nasty Girl" shows a woman used as a scapegoat for something that was society's fault (it makes sense for German movies to deal with that; it's exactly what the Third Reich was all about). Another one of Germany's solid masterpieces.

Watching this movie, I couldn't help but wonder what sorts of secrets any place, anywhere on Earth, carries.

Michael Verhoeven has constructed a masterpiece in this glorious depiction of denial in a small German town. Through a unique style, Verhoeven takes a sensitive topic, the feelings of Germans as to their participation in WWII, and adds a glorious ironic humor to the story.

Lena Stoltz is glorious as Sonja, retaining her youthful charm and appeal throughout the film, from infancy to adulthood. Her apparent youthful innocence is what gives the movie much of its staying power in the minds of its viewers.

This movie is comedy, tragedy, documentary, and social commentary rolled into one glorious package.

Based on real events around a student who, in the 80s, worked of the Nazi past of a Bavarian town and hence got torpedoed by the local regulars and authorities. Verhoeven stages his film with recourse on many alienating stylistic devices to not convey the impression of a mere narration or, by implication, of a documentary. Lena Stolze's, the 'nasty girl', speech directly to the audience is part of it, as well as the effect of an obvious rear projection of the municipal archive while we see the actors performing on stage around a desk. Furthermore, Verhoeven's consistency in sharpening the criticism on the German bourgeoisie is remarkable at the time of the nation's reunion when skeptical and 'unpatriotic' words weren't particularly popular. The overall effect of it is not the exposure of a concealed guilt, but the presentation of a disconcerting as well as funny permanent embarrassment, because we witness both: the knowledge and the laborious acts of ignorance. The mulishness of the girl might be a little infantile, because she hasn't put up with reality yet - and probably never will. But really childish and stubborn and therefore dangerous are all those authorities who try to block her search for truth all the time. In any way, it's a succeeded satire walking in the shoes of Valentin, Tucholsky and Brecht, exposing German hypocrisy to ridicule and putting fingers on apparently still open sores.