Le coup de grâce

Volker Schlöndorff is one of the most overrated directors of the New German Cinema school, and that shows in some of his most celebrated films, including THE TIN DRUM. His adaptions of literature seldom reach beyond mere illustration and even so Schlöndorff never seems to know what the point of his stories actually is.

DER FANGSCHUSS/COUP DE GRACE is one of his more watchable works, which might be largely due the fine, atmospheric B/W photography. But compared to Margarete Yourcenar's novel Schlöndorff's inability to adopt a proper point of view becomes apparent. The novel is told in first person by the main character Erich von Lhomond; yet in Schlöndorff's version it is never clear if it his or Sophie's story. The erotic obsession Sophie has for Erich, mixed with political adversity, which is so crucial for the story is almost completely missing in the film. It is rather supposed than being actually shown and acted out. Unless you have not read the book you cannot measure Schlöndorff's failure to convey what's actually going on between these two.

The greatest flaw is the miscasting of the director's wife Margarethe von Trotta, who is not only a mediocre actress but who is visibly at least 15 years too old for her character, leaving it pointless and unbelievable. Trotta sucks so badly in her part that it makes the whole film a pain to watch every time she appears on screen.

One of the few truly enjoyable moments is the final screen appearance of legendary actress and Pabst veteran Valeska Gert (THE JOYLESS STREET) in an eccentric supporting part - even though her black dyed hair, heavy make-up and curious antics make her hardly a convincing Baltic German landowner lady of the early 20th century.

DER FANGSCHUSS is a pretentious misunderstanding, like most of Schlöndorff's work.

Coup de grâce refers, of course, a finality. Often it means a bullet to the head or something similar to make certain the subject is dead. The original title is Der Fangschuß.

In this German and French language film, covering the period just after World War One, and filmed in a dull black and white that evokes the drab, colorless and perhaps hopeless world for many in the war's aftermath. Set in ravaged Latvia where the Czar had previously allowed a number of aristocratic wealthy Germans to continue to own estates with sumptuous homes. Among these, Countess Sophie de Reval has allowed herself to become attached to the promise of Communism. Despite the German Empire's collapse, German troops nevertheless have been stationed in the region, ostensibly to protect the German citizens from Bolshevism. Since this was formerly a part of Mother Russia, many locals want to see the return of Czarist Russia of the past while some hope for a republic and others only wanting an end to all the strife and horror of war. They only desire a peaceful home for themselves and their children. One of the German officers who has returned to his former homeland, happens to be a gentleman the countess has known since childhood. Once they meet, her former passion re-ignites and when he rebuffs her advances, she begins to throw herself at him. Finally, unable to achieve fulfillment with the officer, the countess releases her sexual desires with others, making this a film destined more for adults, despite the fact that there are really no outright graphic sexual scenes. As mentioned earlier, the drab hopelessness of the period is only accentuated by the low-key black and white film production. This is not an action-packed suspense film, but rather a study in human values and emotions during times of trial. One comment is that the subtitles in English are not well- incorporated into the film and many will find them difficult to follow, especially considering that the film does have a number of abrupt changes of scene. For all that, this is a film many will not quickly forget.

It's about 1920 somewhere on the Baltic Coast. The remnants of the German aristocracy are holding out, and aristocratic Margarethe von Trotta is the sister of a White Russian officer and in love with another, Matthias Habich, but does nothing about it. She's also sympathetic with the local communists.

Volker Schlöndorff's movie is about, like so many of his movies, man's inhumanity to man, with a thin veneer of civilization covering a seething mass of selfish inhumanity, until the madness of it all overwhelms the protagonist. Everyone seems quite rational, holding conversations that never quite make sense or lead to any conclusion. His frequent collaborator, cinematographer Igor Luther, offers beautiful interior shots, but his exteriors seem disorganized and uncomplimentary.... probably a commentary on the world the movies' characters live in.

I had never seen any of the work of Schlöndorff prior to watching this film, so Fangschuß came as an overwhelming surprise, a movie whose pathos and displays of cinematic brilliance (Igor Luther) seem like something between the thanatotic films of Bergman and the dreamlike confusions of some of Fellini's work-- Through a Glass Darkly and La Dolce Vita come to mind. More then any film I've ever seen, Fangschuß seems to capture that terrifying collapse of ones life into a sort of unpredictable madness and ambiguity, the torture that the films personal relations depict overshadowing the brutality of the war itself, in a way that all the while juxtaposes the themes of love and death in a way I had hitherto not thought possible. Certainly not light watching-- but I'd recommend this film to everybody, especially since so few people seem to have heard of it.

...and then only in regard to the atrocious VHS presentation of this film. It's a good thing I understand a fair amount of German and of French, for fully 2/3 of the subtitles are illegible, and the dialog is presented about 50-50 in those two languages. Why on earth did they use white lettering for subtitles--when this film takes place in winter, with snow all about? For that matter, why do they ever use white subtitles at all? It has always been possible to use either white characters bordered by black, or vice-versa, rendering subtitles legible against any background. This technical incompetence is inexcusable and an insult to a very fine film.

I was completely caught off guard, not having read Ms. Yourcenar's novel, by the plot twist near the end. Let me warn you: there is not one bright spot in this whole movie, nor should there be, set as it is in the most horrific, chaotic days of World War I. It is gripping, the character development is splendid, the characters are three-dimensional and complex, and the plot presents enough moral and ethical dilemmas to occupy a thinking person's idle moments for months.

Acting is uniformly excellent to superb--and the character of the aunt is one that may haunt your dreams, or nightmares, forever after.

I voted an eight and am not sure this film doesn't deserve a ten.