An ongoing column that draws clear lines between high art cinema and low trash exploitation.
Genre cinema has often been thought to be the antithesis of the arthouse. Sure, people accept that there are artistically inclined genre films but these are often thought to be the exception and not the rule. While these lines have been are continue to erode, exhibitors have done their best to keep these worlds separate. Exploitation films were enjoyed in the raunchy, rambunctious grindhouses while those from European Auteurs were viewed in arthouse theaters. What happens, however, when a film straddles the line? The distinctions between grindhouse and arthouse are not always so easily defined. [Title] aims to look at movies that reside somewhere between these two spheres. These are films that appeal to both exploitation as well as arthouse sensibilities, and, most importantly, these are films that challenge the ways that we view and judge cinema.
Today, Ulli Lommel’s career is generally characterized by his immense output of straight-to-DVD schlock. His filmography is riddled with numerous true-life serial killer titles almost all of which are subpar at best and z-grade knock offs, or trend-followers like Zombie Nation. But Lommel wasnt always content with these mass-market blunders; there was a time where Lommel was intimately connected with some of the greatest filmmakers ever to live. By 1973, Lommel had already collaborated with New German Cinema auteur Rainer Werner Fassbinder on a dozen films, directing two of his own along the way. Predominantly another familiar face among Fassbinders troupe of outsiders, Lommel began to show a great deal of promise with his avant-garde, sci-fi debut Haytabo. It was his third film, THE TENDERNESS OF THE WOLVES, however, where Lommel revealed much of the thematic and stylistic tendencies that would follow him through his career. Based on the Vampire of Hanover Fritz Haarmann, THE TENDERNESS OF THE WOLVES is a morose, personal examination of Haarmans psyche. Lommel doesnt judge Haarman for his actions but neither does he revel in the violent urges. The result is a film that is harrowing as it is bleak but one that is also full of a skewed sort compassion for humanity, even when it is at its worst.
THE TENDERNESS OF THE WOLVES is far from the work of an unflinching auteur but a film that is aided by the hands of many creative masters. Many will note that Fassbinder is credited as a producer on the film, and certainly Lommels style seems to be heavily informed by his work with Fassbinder. Yet, more than Fassbinder, the real star (both literally and figuratively) of this work is Kurt Raab. Raab was a Fassbinder mainstay, whose unique facial features and booming performances lent themselves seamlessly to Fassbinders eccentric vision. At his best, Raab humanized what could otherwise maniacal characters in Satans Brew or Fear of Fear. Yet more than just breath life to Haarman on screen, Raabs vision was felt behind the camera as well. Raab developed the script for Lommel, and it is arguably in Raabs concepts and characters in which the film is imbued with its strongest qualities.
When thinking about TENDERNESS, one can’t help but think about the famous Herzog quote about the New German Cinema filmmakers as cinematic orphans. Herzog identified in not only his own work but that of his contemporaries an impulse to reject the previous generation of filmmakers who were forced to work under the Nazi regime, and instead look to the generation before that for inspiration. This is what ultimately brought Herzog to Nosferatu and can be said to have brought Lommel to M (as well as fragments of Nosferatu). Beyond being inspired by the same true to life events, the similarities between the films are stunning. Lommel pays homage to Lang with visual nods that are brilliantly implemented (beginning with the very first shot in the film of Haarmans brooding shadow strolling along a corridor, which calls back to both M and Nosferatu in one). Yet, there is also a great deal of ways in which the film expands on Lang’s original vision. In THE TENDERNESS OF THE WOLVES, Lommel and Raab create a far more complex depiction than Lang was able (or even desired) to offer, and the ultimate divide between criminal and police factions comes off as a lot less juvenile and moral than it does in M. There are multi-layered and far more nuanced reason for both criminal action as well as for the criminals to assist the police. These are both sociological (Germany in a state of ruin) as well as personal impulses such as greed and jealousy.
The takeaway for Lommels film is its poignant message. In one memorable shot, just following another of Haarmans attacks, Lommel tracks the camera from a mirrored image of Haarman to a non-reflected image just as Haarmans friend (and unrequited lover) discovers him amidst his most carnal act. While not novel, this acts as a succinct visual way of depicting the two conflicting sides of Haarmans character. It would be far too easy to make his character despicable, and yet he is not. Lommel and Raab allow, and some would even say force, us sympathize with a murderer, rapist, and pedophile. In the end, THE TENDERNESS OF THE WOLVES is a harrowing look at despair and desire, aided by Raabs ability to effortlessly shift between discreet vulnerability and harsh cruelty.
Since its first screening in 1973 at the Berlin International Film Festival, the film has had a rocky life. Not a true to form genre film, TENDERNESS struggled to find the right home. It would take four years for the film to see a release in the states, and, once it did, it was under a rather anonymous distributor named Monument Films (their fourth ever release of only six releases). Rather than be programmed in the grindhouse theaters of Times Square where the films blend of violence and sexuality would probably have found an enthusiastic audience the film played at the Jean Renoir Cinema. While TENDERNESS was not an abject failure, the film did somewhat fade to a mere footnote in the prolific career of Fassbinder despite a few positives reviews. In his piece for the New York Times, Vincent Canby said, It is beautifully and enthusiastically performed and it doesn’t contain a single superfluous or redundant camera movement, while Roger Ebert famously reticent when it came to genre films gave the film two-and-a-half out of four stars, stating, the movie descends into ugly barbarism and stays there, and perhaps that took more imagination than a conventional cops-and-killers approach. Like Fassbinder’s own work, the movie has a haunting banality.
Lommels style, here, is both a blessing and a curse. The murder scenes are shot tastefully, with little blood and on-screen graphic violence. Featuring full frontal male nudity as well as depictions of homosexuality all of which are hardly shocking by todays standards were still relatively daring feats for the 70s, even if they were common facets of many Fassbinder films. If anything, the film straddles the line between arthouse and grindhouse sentiments too much, neither fully committing either style. However, while this may have been a reason the film struggled to find a committed audience, it is also one if its greatest strengths. TENDERNESS doesnt need to fit into a perfect box and, like Fassbinder, Lommels inability to pander to sensibilities (something that will quickly fade in his career) gives the film a radical edge. After all, forty years has done little to soften the films potent nature. THE TENDERNESS OF THE WOLVES is a fascinating and artistic look at horror. It is also a completely unpretentious and stripped down examination into the darkest of human passions. It represents everything that both art and genre cinema should be. An Engaging, effective, and entertaining work, TENDERNESS may be but a small fraction of a wildly divisive legacy but its without a doubt the lynchpin to unlocking the brilliance the director was capable of exhibiting.
