A pure nightmare: outtakes of a film that consists of nothing but outtakes. Its truest moment is a dream sequence in which the torturous initial sequence dissipates in an intoxicating rush, only to resurface, ghost-like, in a third sequence. Nothing is finished, not even the intertitles. Everything is emerging. Or decaying.
Schlingensief despairs at his protagonists who are standing in front of his camera, in the way, so to speak. He curses, dances across the screen, repeating himself, again and again. He wipes the lens, searching for a moment between the images.
An ‘un-making-of’ that tells us more about the death of a story than a story about the death of a story ever could. Christoph Schlingensief: “Once more: everybody has to learn that sometimes there is a good moment to say goodbye to the story. And then it’s perfect.”
Schlingensief despairs at his protagonists who are standing in front of his camera, in the way, so to speak. He curses, dances across the screen, repeating himself, again and again. He wipes the lens, searching for a moment between the images.
An ‘un-making-of’ that tells us more about the death of a story than a story about the death of a story ever could. Christoph Schlingensief: “Once more: everybody has to learn that sometimes there is a good moment to say goodbye to the story. And then it’s perfect.”