Le coup de grâce

In a depopulated part of northeastern Europe, desperate men are fighting a hopeless, pointless war after the Great War has ended. It is the winter of 1919-1920 in Latvia, and the Treaty of Versailles will soon establish the independence of the Baltic states. Schlondorff has taken Yourcenar's novel and made a wonderful mood piece out of it. The acting is great: Matthias Habich is stiff and uncomprehending, Margarethe von Trotta is warm and lively as well as passionately Bolshevik, Valeska Gert, whom I remember from a Louise Brooks silent film, is the half-crazy aunt.

Schlondorff's films are tremendous literary adaptations that stand on their own as film creations. I see the world a little through his eyes, just as I see it through Renoir's, or Bertolucci's, or Altman's.

...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.

The film begins in Latvia just after WWI. Being a history teacher, I knew that multinational troops occupied much of Russia during this time. There was serious concern about the spread of Bolshevism and the troops were there ostensibly to protect their nations' interests. However, some times they flew missions or had armed conflicts with the Communist army, as the nations involved really wanted to see the so-called "Whites" win. However, the Whites were deeply factionalized--some wanting the return of a czar, some wanting a republic and some wanting something in between. Because of these mixed goals and a lack of a real commitment by the foreign armies, the whole expedition was doomed and left the USSR after only a year or two. However, what I did NOT know was that German troops were also involved. This surprised me, as they had just lost WWI and weren't in the best shape to be mounting such an expedition.

This is the backdrop for the film, but it's also about a pro-Communist rich lady and her ill-fated love for a childhood friend who is among the German troops. She throws herself at him repeatedly but in each case he rebuffs her. So, she then sublimates these desires by various affairs. While none of this sex is all that graphic, this and the underlying reason the man isn't interested make this a rather adult film and one I wouldn't show to younger audiences.

While the setting for this film is interesting, the overall film is as gray and lifeless as any I have seen. I don't recommend it unless you are an amazingly patient person or you are really into overrated German films. I especially warn away anyone who suffers with depression, as it will no doubt make it worse. The simple fact is that there are so many better German films out there waiting to be seen--such as MOSTLY MARTHA, DAS BOOT, MOTHER KUSTERS GOES TO HEAVEN, WINGS OF DESIRE or ALI, FEAR EATS THE SOUL (among others).

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.

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.