Unsichtbare Gegner

I generally like art films, but this one kind of tried my patience.

I went in, like others, thinking that this was going to be some sort of alien invasion flick. That's at least what the movie's write-up in the film-series pamphlet had me believe. What I got instead was a bizarre movie about a woman going crazy.

First, the good.

I liked the art in this movie. I guess you gotta have art to have an art film, and that's where this movie really delivers. There are many great collages and juxtapositions, both in the central character's work (she is an artist), as well as in the filming techniques of the movie itself. Also present is some really neat and disturbing footage involving food, a la Svankmajer.

Now, the bad.

Ok, so, this is definitely not an alien invasion movie. In fact, there is very little plot. Basically, this artist woman has a boyfriend who is a total jerk. Instead of just breaking up, they stay together and fight a bunch. She's obsessed with the notion that aliens called the Hyksos are invading the earth and taking over people's brains. He's completely obsessed with "the system," and all this Chomsky-esque philosophizing about how we're all being screwed. If you've spent any amount time on a college campus, you've heard it all before. Anyway, this was the only logical sense I was able to make from the whole film - they both believe in the existence of "Invisible Adversaries." Oh yeah, and at some point, she's diagnosed schizophrenic. While this made sense, I didn't really want to accept it because it was too much of an easy explanation.

Also, the movie contains some random discourses on Austrian architecture and politics, which did nothing for me, since I know nothing of either.

So if you REALLY like art films, I would say watch this one just for the art. Otherwise, you may want to spend the two or so hours watching something more plot-driven.

Or maybe I've just been taken over by the Hyksos.

"Invisible Adversaries" requires patience, but it's worth it. Only after I realized that the box cover was wrong (it's NOT an alien invasion movie) did I begin to see it as the moving story of a woman who sees the collapse of her intimate relationship in everything around her--the emptiness of the people she sees, the fighting in the world at large. She's also a photographer, and what she does as an artist is mirrored by the filmic technique itself--the film is full of doubling, re-takes, delays, and some stunning images (in one sequence shown as if it were being projected over her bed as she's sleeping, she walks across the town in ice skates).

I found myself comparing it to Surrealist films (especially Maya Deren) and sometimes, for brief moments, even Godard. It's not always an easy movie to take: the lighting seems deliberately un-beautiful, and you won't escape without some bracing intimate moments. It is aesthetically distinctly un-French in its ugliness, but marvelous all the same.

Invisible Adversaries is a very difficult film which requires to some extent an understanding of Vienna and Austian culture. Export loves to offend and most viewers will find her photographic effrontery annoying and give up before recognizing the remarkably consistent themes discussed by the film.

Some of the themes raised relate to the role of art in contemporary society addressed by Anna's photographs that replace real objects in her home and around the city of Vienna. She also interrogates social values by replacing objects and people (such as the baby Jesus) in historical paintings with advertising props such as soap powder and vacuum cleaners (in the style of Hermine Freed).

The larger story relates to whether a woman (who is disturbed by seeing her world becoming increasingly dark and unfriendly) is ultimately insane. Anna's world is clearly one full of discord. Couples (including herself and Peter) are continually fighting and children are shown watching violent activities on TV. The viewer is often subjected to radio broadcasts about the wars and violence of the world, from the Icelandic cod war to events in Vietnam and Cambodia.

Export uses a genuine psychiatrist in the role of psychiatrist to show that our society tends to condone medicating people who see the world as a depressing place. Without spoiling the film, I would like to suggest that many of the events of the film are metaphors that ask us to question why we accept certain behaviors as normal or acceptable. While a bit dated, this film still does what art should do: it leaves us with questions about ourselves and our culture.