unguided tour

Ambiguity. “Oh please!” I whisper to myself impatiently. I don’t like this film. I find it boring, contrived, superficial. I’m relieved when the credits appear. One hundred and seven minutes of pseudo conflicts and superficial propaganda — no depth, no subtleties, no space for interpretation. And yet, ever since I left the movie theatre this mellow summer night in 2003 I’ve been strangely drawn to DER DRITTE. Why? Perhaps because DER DRITTE is not just one film, but two. The first one I forgot about quickly; the other one has lodged itself in my unconscious (now and then short scenes, like flashbacks, force themselves upon me). Everyone who has seen DER DRITTE knows the first one; I may have been the only one who registered the other one. The first one tells a story; the other one does not. It’s time to examine my double vision: DER DRITTE. (more…)

Memory is performative. To remember is to repeat.
Not every memory gets performed and repeated. Some memories are so horrific that we censor their re-presentation. Perpetrator memories of the Holocaust as sexual extravaganza belong to this group.

Liliana Cavani’s controversial 1974 movie The Night Porter has been labeled “Nazi chic” (Roger Ebert). For some critics the film is a shamelessly pornographic fantasy of the Holocaust, a “sentimental idyll … exalting romantic love between victim and victimizer, against the brute reality of Nazi violence,” (Marga Cottino-Jones) using the Holocaust as a mere “backdrop to the erotic/sadomasochistic misadventures of Max and Lucia, Nazi and victim” (Rebecca Scherr); a “despicable attempt to titillate [the viewer] by exploiting memories of persecution and suffering.” (Ebert)
I’m not convinced.

(more…)