I’m sure Germany had to have made some comedies, but I have never seen one. From the German cinema I have seen, I can’t imagine what one would be like. I have seen some Fassbinder and Herzog, both of whom have names that sound like heavy German beers. Hell, I’ve even watched all 16 hours of Berlin Alexanderplatz, a movie which intrigued me as a kid from the movie review guides I would pore over, and for the same reason I’m still intrigued by the Throbbing Gristle album 24 Hours.
From the works I have seen, I am picturing a rather dour and stern populace. The kind of place where merriment and frivolity might be punishable by law. And Wim Wenders’s 1977 film The American Friend did nothing to dispel those assumptions. In the grand tradition of Benny Hill, I’m going to try to lighten up this film by using some fake German terms of dubious hilarity.
I assume that, in 1977, it was still a novelty (petröcken) to see a movie (pitchürshozen) about Patricia Highsmith’s legendary Tom Ripley character in a theatre (pitchürshozenhausenmitstickyfloorzen). As for myself, I think 1960’s Purple Noon (the first time the character appeared on screen) to be the best, with the best known adaptation, 1999’s The Talented Mr. Ripley, coming a close second.
While Alain Delon and Jude Law were played the character in their own different, yet equally believable manners, Dennis Hooper fails to truly make the role his own and this makes it difficult to suspend disbelief (büllshitzendetectorthingyproblematik). In this incarnation, Ripley seems to be in a sort of retirement, living in a mansion but still participating in selling art forgeries (fälschenpitchürwending).
Bruno Ganz plays a picture framer (pitchürböxener) who is able to tell the blue in a certain famous painting is inaccurate. At an auction, he advises friend David Blue not to buy it. Seeing as to how that actor’s last name is Blue, he would be an expert on the color, so what do I know. I also didn’t know until I was researching the cast that this is the same David Blue who is better known as a musician, especially for his early albums on the Elektra label (müsikplattermäker). Anywho, Blue still ends up pleased he has bought the painting in this auction, as he was only acting as the buyer for a Texas oil billionaire looking for something to hang over his barbeque. So, I guess it is probably better this wasn’t the original, anyways.
After the auction, Ganz is introduced to Hopper, who takes a completely innocent statement made by the other man to be a great insult. Not unlike a certain political figure at the time I write this, Hopper will undertake some rather preposterous measures to exact revenge for such a…well, slight..slight (kleinensulten).
Thus begins the framing of the framemaker. One shot early on makes uses some blatant symbolism to suggest what is going to happen to Ganz, as he holds the parts of a frame in front of him and tries to maneuver the pieces together, his head dead center in the frame. That the parts don’t seem to seamlessly connect is some accidental symbolism for how the disparate elements of this never fully gel (togethürgooeysticken).
What Hopper has devised is to have a third party played by Gérard Blain convince Ganz is dying from the rare disease for which he is currently in treatment, though his regular doctor is convinced the illness is kept in check for now (todhalten). Like so many influencers today, a stranger sways somebody who should know by instilling distrust for an authority figure: “Maybe your doctor lies to you […] You are not competently informed.”
With that, Ganz is off to Paris, where he receives additional tests at the American hospital, which Blain says is the best in Paris. I thought that was a curious, in unintentional, dig at the quality of healthcare in France. Also, Blain rattles off the names of a couple of famous people who died in that facility (todhaus). I know that wouldn’t comfort me. Ganz tells him he doesn’t plan to die there. Still, these tests are going to hurt, as the doctor informs Ganz, “I’m afraid this is going to be painful in any language.” But, let’s face it, it will be even more painful in German, as so many things are—at least that is true as far as food, sex and cinema are concerned.
Blain will mess with the test results. Having convinced Ganz he is at death’s door (todtür), an opportunity is presented to assassinate somebody for a cool 250,000 marks, or roughly ten U.S. dollars, if my math is right (and it doubtlessly is not). Ganz protests he is not a killer, which Blain sees as only an asset: “Good! That’s just what we need, somebody not connected to us.”
The central, and best, scene in the rather long, drawn-out runtime is Ganz’s pursuit of his target through a subway station and a couple of trains. His internal struggle is palpable and the moment of his final decision to shoot the man in the back (waffepöppenoffeninderarsch) is abrupt and surprising, likely as much to him as it is to the viewer.
Immediately afterwards, we see Ganz’s flight from the scene of the crime as captured on a series of surveillance camera monitors, and yet there doesn’t seem to be any effort by the authorities to apprehend him. One curious thread left completely unexplored is Ganz expressing any concern of being caught.
What the plot instead focuses on is the increasing somber life at home between Ganz and wife Lisa Kreuzer. Their increasing bitterness (spouzenkampf) proves why this wasn’t an aspect of the other Tom Ripley adaptations I have seen. Hopper is also conflicted, as he has come to like Ganz. I like this line he says when visiting the man’s shop: “I like this room. It’s quiet and peaceful. Like you.”
That is one of Hopper’s best moments in a picture where he otherwise is largely allowed to adlib (addenlibben), to the detriment of the film. When we first see him, he is dropping in on Nicholas Ray, the real-life famous director who inexplicably plays the art forger (fälschenpitchürfakir) here. Hopper’s second line in the runtime actually has him saying of himself, “Believe it or not”, and my eyes nearly rolled out of my head at that (augenrollennöggin). The man is also prone to carrying around a tape recorder and recording his ramblings into it, then playing them back later with the device pressed up to his ear like this is his jam. I believe I speak for all Twin Peaks fans when I say I wish he called the recorder “Diane”. At one point, Hopper pointlessly sings “The Ballad of Easy Rider” as if the actor forgot he in the real world, and not his character, had directed that movie.
I found The American Friend to be a hollow exercise. Honestly, there is no reason for Hopper to be playing Highsmith’s most famous creation, as he could be anybody. Ganz turns in the better performance, but there is only so long I can watch a man look sadly around a quiet room before I start looking at my watch. At best, the film left me feeling empty and more than a bit bored, and so I looked to immediately correct my mood by watching something perkier, or at least something sunnier in disposition. I’m not sure a word exists in German for the feeling I believe it is meant to convey, so I’ll try to coin my own when I say I do not feel the pull of nihilismusfreude.
Dir: Wim Wenders
Starring Dennis Hopper, Bruno Ganz
Watched on Criterion Collection blu-ray