Cinema: High Camp

THE MARRIAGE OF MARIA BRAUN

Directed by Rainer Werner Fassbinder

Screenplay by Peter Marthesheimer and Pia Frohlich

One thing is certain about Rainer Werner Fassbinder, the most prolific of West Germany’s New Wave film makers, his movies could not be mistaken for those of any other contemporary director. Who but Fassbinder would shoot a scene from the point of view of a character’s ankles, or punctuate a film with shots of telephones? What is more, Fassbinder’s idiosyncrasies are more skillfully performed with each film. The opening of The Marriage of Maria Braun is a particular gem: as our eyes take in an Adolf Hitler wall poster, the image explodes to reveal a full-dress wedding in the midst of a bombing attack. From this incongruous tableau, the director moves on to ever higher lunacy. Audiences never know when he will cut away from a tense dramatic exchange to a closeup of a pack of Camels.

Alas, Fassbinder is doing more than mere fooling around. Increasingly, he seems to be the ’70s heir to such past camp masters as the ’50s Hollywood director Douglas Sirk (Magnificent Obsession) and the ’60s Warhol disciple Paul Morrissey (Flesh). But unlike his predecessors, Fassbinder does not recognize the limits of the form. Camp is fine for movies that want to trade exclusively in offbeat humor and florid emotions. In Maria Braun, Fassbinder makes the serious mistake of try ing to convey ideas.

The movie is about a beautiful, clever woman who rises from the ashes of postwar Germany to prosperity in business. Maria’s whole life is a series of opportunistic and mercenary schemes; as the script puts it, she even needs “a contract to enjoy life.” En route to the top, she uses sex and love as bargaining chips to manipulate her husband, family and employers. Inevitably, she pays the price of total dehumanization.

There is nothing wrong with this familiar yet entertaining tale, or with Hanna Schygulla’s finely shaded and often sensuous portrayal of the protagonist. The trouble stems from Fassbinder’s belief that Maria can serve as a damning metaphor for modern Germany’s Economic Miracle. Since his style expresses complex emotions and ambiguous political history in broad theatrical gestures, he never makes his case. Eventually the strain between form and content becomes irritating. The final shot is a portrait of Chancellor Helmut Schmidt, who is thus equated with the film’s opening image of Hitler. No sale. If Fassbinder wants to take such dangerous stands, he will have to abandon his facile mannerisms and arm himself with the most powerful tools of his art. F.R.