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Filmbrain's Screen Capture Quiz: Round 4 -- Week 1

Here begins Round 4 of Filmbrain's weekly screen capture quiz. A brief review of the rules for all the newcomers -- Each Wednesday morning a new screen capture quiz will be posted. All images come from DVDs in Filmbrain's personal collection and are limited to Region 1 releases. After 12 weeks, the three individuals with the highest number of correct guesses will win a DVD prize (to be determined -- Filmbrain hasn't had the time to think about it yet.) In case of a tie, runoff rounds will be added until there are three clear winners. Entries can be submitted until the following week's quiz goes up. As for last week's bonus quiz, many of you fell right into Filmbrain's trap -- while it is almost identical to the final shot of Battle Royale, it actually comes from Shunji Iwai's better-than-magnificent All About Lily Chou-Chou. After several years of waiting, the film has finally been released on DVD, and it is a must-see. Buy it, rent it, add it to your Netflix queue -- but see it! This week, an extremely simple one, just to kick things off. Send your answers to this address. Good luck!

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.