Having just read Christopher Hitchens review of
The Baader Meinhof Complex, I felt compelled to resurrect this old thread and rap on some of the particular feelings I had about this movie and
The Third Generation. I poked around a bit on the internet for other reviews as well, and I ended up feeling particularly troubled about the bizarrely varied reactions to the two films. I find myself hating
The Baader Meinhof Complex for what seemed to me to be a superficial stylistic approach and a cynical attitude towards the "idiotic hijinks" of the RAF, and conversely loving
The Third Generation for what seems to me its much larger understanding of and sympathy for people and their alienation--as a result of those feelings, the range of reviews and the politically- and film-theoretically-charged perspectives by which people approach the two films really disturb me.
Hitchens review of the film is quite positive, for many of the same reasons HistoryProf elucidates in this thread. And Hitchens is approaching the film as a journalist and an historian, and as someone fundamentally opposed to sectarian violence in any form. He applauds the film because it doesn't fail to point out every idiocy and vanity behind the Baader Meinhof group's thuggery. He feels the film essentially de-romanticizes the Red Army Faction in an essentially prosocial way. I've managed to turn up many reviews online where people feel the exact opposite about the film, and it seems in Germany the film was commonly accused of, in fact,
romanticizing the group––making it out to be a sexy collection of fashion-plates, who get a powerful fix of sex and violence through their shared radicalization.
For background, I must say that I had the luck of a very weird coincidence, wherein I managed to see first
The Baader Meinhof Complex and second
The Third Generation within the same week-–without having any introduction to either film before seeing them. And in that light, it seemed rather clear to me that
The Third Generation was a complex and fascinating movie--one that worked upon several levels of insight at once, and which was the product of an inspired and sensitive filmmaker.
On the other hand,
The Baader Meinhoff Complex seemed to me to be a slick gloss on the Scorcese-hit-parade style of filmmaking, providing a very superficial historical review of the Red Army Faction and the characters and events surrounding it. The picture seemed to me to follow a current vogue for quickly-edited, reality-show-like immediacy, coupled with a protracted stretch of narrative progression that is almost like an endurance test of direct, prosaic assault--not on one's senses so much as one's sensitivity. How many scenes of unadorned, furious steadicam confrontation between actors can we take? The Edel film did seem to me to be substantially right-wing in its sympathies, and that might have been my own reactionary feeling operating against the film. But there was such an unrelenting focus upon the members of the RAF behaving badly, in scene after scene of extended behavioral "observation." The style seemed to me very reminiscent of Adam Sandler's unending, repetitive and humiliating confrontations with every character in
Punch-Drunk Love. In that film we laugh at the mute idiocy of the central character, until it becomes clear that he is deeply hurt by these exchanges, and that he is ready to explode into violence as a result. It did seem to me as if Edel was making the RAF out to be a collection of idiots every chance he got, but the effect of the mis-en-scene in
Baader Meinhof is different than in the Sandler movie, in that while we gain sympathy for Sandler, the same stylistic flourish distances us from the RAF members. The resounding impression I had of the Edel film was that it was a contemporary action movie, with exploitative nudity, steadicam violence, overheated editing and pop music as its driving filmic forces. Thus the stylistic approach gave the film a sheen of cynicism that I found very off-putting. Hitchens in his review doesn't seem to have felt any of that encounter with the film's style, or the alienation I experienced because of that encounter.
Conversely,
The Third Generation was a film that lived and breathed before me. There is nudity in
The Third Generation, but it hardly seems to be cut from the same cloth as that lascivious and tacked-on nudity in the Edel film. There is action in
The Third Generation, but it is tiny moments, un-fetishized and unromantic, and it is buried within a much more thoughtful and unique mis-en-scene than anything that graced
The Baader Meinhof Complex. To me
The Third Generation is far more penetrating--it's a film that really reaches into its characters and shows us souls within, even as the film is critical of its RAF-manque. It's a film that evokes insights into its own society, whereas the Edel film seems to be all surface.
The Third Generation also uses film style to make its points, rather than simply supplying narrative illustration, a la
The Baader Meinhof Complex.
I think Hitchens probably hasn't seen the Fassbinder film, but a quote from the end of his article about the Edel movie stuck a bit in my throat:
"It’s high time that the movie business outgrew some of the illusions of “radical” terrorism, and this film makes an admirably unsentimental contribution to that task."
I guess Hitchens is coming at this from the standpoint of someone who really doesn't see an enormous amount of movies. His approach is entirely socio-historical. He looks at the picture in terms of the historical events it illustrates, and he reads into the picture a tone which corresponds to his hopes for what the movie could do. He wants the film to debunk the mythic glamour of "radical" terrorism, and so he sees the film doing that (interesting that German audiences seemed to feel the film did the opposite). There is a level on which the film operates, however, that Hitchens appears to ignore--the level I believe zedz is referring to when he talks about the conservatism of the film. For a film-lover, the Edel movie is genuinely dreary, because of this layer of sub-Bond-ian apparatus which Edel brings to bear. The jolting from location to location, like an exotic travelogue. The steadicam flurry of the action. The blatantly exploitative nudity, and the clear fetishization of it. And especially the cutting of "sign of the times" history to period pop music. The craft of the film is essentially crass and cynical––because it is entirely commercial, and it makes no attempt to interface the subject matter in a productive way––and I guess to my mind it warps the film as a result. It makes the movie seem a history showreel, for fun and profit, more than an attempt to understand people and their times (Here's looking at you,
Argo).
The Third Generation, to me, gives one a contrasting sense of the space surrounding its would-be revolutionaries in a way to which Edel seems entirely oblivious--and it makes a huge difference in how I perceive the value of the two films. In the Fassbinder movie, we feel the things in their society which the RAF members feel they are responding to––the atmosphere of
The Third Generation is filled with harsh menace and weird, mordant humor and social observation. There is almost no "atmosphere" present in the slick package of
The Baader Meinhof Complex, and no sense that society is operating around the RAF members, sending out signals and pulsing with spheres of influence.
Still, I wonder if my preference for filmic style--coupled with an interest, drawn from Renoir films, to look at everybody with their own reasons, ne justifications--puts me on the wrong side of history in a certain respect. Because I do want to sympathize with--or at least understand--the people who are the subjects of a film. I instinctively want to relate to those characters in a sympathetic way, and I applaud filmic style that provides that kind of depth. But Hitchens and HistoryProf make a case that sympathy for the RAF is unwarranted, and I can see the social efficacy--and basic human rightness--of such an argument. The RAF were dubious in their political conviction and organization, and they were most likely manipulated by and funded by the Stasi, and the things they did hurt innocent people. Incidentally, Fassbinder's film does not refute any of these ideas, even as it finds time to appreciate a dehumanizing world to which his protagonists respond with understandable alienation. Is it wrong to look at these people and feel sympathy for their alienation, even if their actions in the service of hope or despair are misguided and deplorable? Is that "humanist" film theory, dangerously infiltrating history?