Dysfunctional in Deutschland

Oskar Roehler's Agnes and His Brothers, which is being shown as part of the New Directors/New Films series, is one of those polarizing films -- it's a love it or hate it affair, with seemingly little room for a middle ground. Seat-squirming uncomfortable at times, but with outstanding performances by the entire cast, it is easily Filmbrain's favorite of the festival. Though some have written the film off as little more than a gross-out dramedy (Manohla Dargis of The New York Times describes the humor as "more befitting the Farrelly brothers than Fassbinder"), Agnes and His Brothers is a film that takes pleasure in scratching away at the facade of the safe, clean, upper-middle class world of contemporary Germany. Though Roehler's approach is different, it shares something with films like Michael Haneke's Benny's Video and Lars von Trier's Idiots -- films that were interested in shaking up the complacency of their "perfect" societies. At times, the film unfolds like a German American Beauty, though much darker, and without the sappy redemption. As the title reveals, the film follows the lives of three brothers who, as a result of things that may (or may not) have happened in their childhood have grown into lonely, dysfunctional men who are desperately seeking love and understanding. Werner (Herbert Knaup) is a wealthy and powerful politician in the Green party. Though successful at pushing through his container deposit bill, he has no such power at home, where he is ignored by his beautiful wife Signe (Katja Riemann) who no longer loves him, and taunted by his marijuana-growing teenage son Ralf who delights in capturing Werner's more embarrassing moments on video. Hans-Jörg (Moritz Bleibtrau, Run Lola Run) is a shy, perverted, chronically masturbating librarian who spends his days lusting after the patrons, all of whom seem to be belly-shirt and short-skirt wearing beauties. Rounding out the trio is Agnes (Martin Weiss), a transsexual who has just been tossed out by his (her?) boyfriend for not being a domestic enough partner. Though Roehler takes a different approach to each brother's story -- both dramatically and stylistically -- the film never feels fragmented, and the three disparate pieces form a very satisfying whole. Hans-Jörg's story, sex-addicts anonymous meetings and all, unfolds much like a Todd Solondz episode (think Happiness), but with a deliciously ironic ending that plays into the most obvious of male fantasies. With its suburban nightmare setting and creepy, pot smoking, video obsessed son, Werner's story does owe a fair debt to the aforementioned American Beauty, though with a greater level of depravity. (The film even borrows the mistakenly-seen-blowjob-due-to-awkward-perspective gimmick.) The strongest and most impressive of the three stories is Agnes', which is pure Sirk-via-Fassbinder melodrama, and Roehler even strives to capture the late director's look through the use of tight framing. Of the three brothers, it is the transgendered Agnes (with supportive ex-wife and child) who is the most normal. While Werner and Hans-Jörg are driven mad by the absence of sex in their lives, Agnes' suffering is rooted is something greater, and what he seeks is far less superficial than the animalistic needs of his brothers. Roehler takes many chances, especially for a new director, but they all pay off. (In a particularly gutsy move, Roehler uses Stealers Wheel's Stuck in the Middle With You as Werner's theme -- a song eternally associated with Reservoir Dogs.) With hints of incest, bestiality, and odd defecation habits, it's understandable that some might be turned off by the film's many uncomfortable moments, but they don't exist simply for shock's sake. The three brothers represent three aspects of German reality, and the occasionally extreme moments are effective in delivering on the satirical and critical intentions of the director. Still, for all the dysfunction, Agnes and his Brothers is ultimately an optimistic film that balances out its misanthropy with equal portions of heartfelt humanity -- an ideal blend of comedy and drama that results in of the best German films in years.

Comments

[phyrephox]

This, along with Mila from Mars--two films I saw at the ND/NF series--were the first films in ages that I was very, very tempted to walk out on. I didn't, but the film never got any better. It wasn't that the film was terrible as much as it seemed a re-tread of other, better, deeper films. Though the performances were all solid, most of the script was cliched and simplistic and I never saw anything in the film's style that approached interesting (comparisons to Sirk and Fassbinder must be in the watered-down content rather than the aesthetics). I wish I could give better, more detailed criticism, but the film turned me off so much I ended up not reviewing it so I don't quite recall the specifics of its problems.

[Ulrike B]

I saw this in Berlin some months ago and I could not agree more with your assessment of the movie. One needs, I think, to understand the German mentality and society to understand where the criticism lies. Only extremes as are depicted in the movie will make us sit up and take note.

[phyrephox]

Is this film socially and culturally specific to Germany? It didn't seem that way to me, it seemed pretty broad.

[UIrike B]

Well certainly the film can be enjoyed by anyone but the extremes the film goes to, the socalled disgusting and crude behaviors is both a reaction to and criticism of the tough stubborn, often arrogant behavior of the Germans who live in their safe communities. This is not the Germany of cities like Berlin or Hamburg but rather the area in the west -- the wealthy spotless communties. Beneath the exterior often lies something darker.