First-time director-writer Michael Schorr has made a gently idiosyncratic film that is at once bittersweet and enervating, a combination familiar to anyone acquainted with the works of filmmaker Jim Jarmusch. It feels like Schorr is indeed making a Jarmusch-like film in his gently drawn character study of Schultze, an accordion-playing German salt mine worker. What I like about Schorr's style is the naturalness with which he presents such potentially eccentric characters and also the elliptical nature of his story treatment, i.e., he lets the viewer fill in all the blanks in the storyline instead of inserting contrived plot devices to move the film along.
The plot revolves around the early retirement given to Schultze and his two beer-drinking co-workers. As the lone bachelor of the trio and caring for an ailing mother in a nursing home, Schultze is bored in his small town in Sachsen-Anhalt region of Germany. By chance, he hears a snippet of zydeco music on the radio and becomes so instantly hooked that he takes odd jobs to save up for a trip to the bayou country in Louisiana. Fate somehow works in his favor as his town's music club is having a 50th anniversary celebration, including a trip for a luckily chosen musician to the US sister city of New Braunfels, Texas. After a controversial performance of zydeco music at an otherwise all-polka concert, Schultze wins the trip and makes his way to Louisiana. There, he rents a boat, travels the bayous and meets lots of nice people along the way.
It's a sweet story that Schorr has elongated with long, establishing shots and scenes, some relatively inconsequential like the flamenco-dancing waitress, that drag on for too long, but he compensates for the most part with the sheer quirkiness of the episodic plot. The comedy is not laugh-out-loud funny (except for a bikini shot of Schultze in a Jacuzzi), but the film's observational humor brings a gentle resonance to the story. While his rotund figure and gentle manner would initially have you think he will be the reincarnation of S.Z. "Cuddles" Sakall from "Casablanca", Horst Krause actually plays Schultze in quite a plain-faced manner, imbuing his character with an inarticulate, realistic humanism. Harald Warmbrunn as Jürgen and Karl-Fred Muller as Manfred lend sound comic support as Schultze's buddies. Interestingly, all the roles are filled with such natural actors that the whole venture often feels like a documentary, especially when the film comes stateside.
While I enjoyed Axel Schneppat's cinematography, I think the editing by Tina Hillmann is frankly not disciplined enough to completely pull off such a sweet-spirited parable, and from my perspective, the 114-minute film could have easily been shortened by a half-hour. After all, Schultze's journey to Louisiana doesn't happen until well after the one-hour mark. I also think that Schorr views Schultze a bit too much at arm's length and doesn't allow us to get to know him beyond the thoughtful, befuddled man that Schorr presents here. For example, there is a lovely scene near the end of the film where Schultze asks for water from a local woman cooking crabs, but it's not clear beyond her sense of giving why a bonding occurs between the two. If there is a moment of catharsis for Schultze, I'm not sure I was aware of it. The charm of the 2003 movie, however, will likely sway you if you are patient enough to absorb the deliberate pacing. The DVD's one significant extra is Schorr's detailed, informative commentary on an alternate track. He speaks in German but the English subtitles help translate his often illuminating remarks. There are three similar, German-language trailers included, as well as various previews for other Paramount Classics films.
The plot revolves around the early retirement given to Schultze and his two beer-drinking co-workers. As the lone bachelor of the trio and caring for an ailing mother in a nursing home, Schultze is bored in his small town in Sachsen-Anhalt region of Germany. By chance, he hears a snippet of zydeco music on the radio and becomes so instantly hooked that he takes odd jobs to save up for a trip to the bayou country in Louisiana. Fate somehow works in his favor as his town's music club is having a 50th anniversary celebration, including a trip for a luckily chosen musician to the US sister city of New Braunfels, Texas. After a controversial performance of zydeco music at an otherwise all-polka concert, Schultze wins the trip and makes his way to Louisiana. There, he rents a boat, travels the bayous and meets lots of nice people along the way.
It's a sweet story that Schorr has elongated with long, establishing shots and scenes, some relatively inconsequential like the flamenco-dancing waitress, that drag on for too long, but he compensates for the most part with the sheer quirkiness of the episodic plot. The comedy is not laugh-out-loud funny (except for a bikini shot of Schultze in a Jacuzzi), but the film's observational humor brings a gentle resonance to the story. While his rotund figure and gentle manner would initially have you think he will be the reincarnation of S.Z. "Cuddles" Sakall from "Casablanca", Horst Krause actually plays Schultze in quite a plain-faced manner, imbuing his character with an inarticulate, realistic humanism. Harald Warmbrunn as Jürgen and Karl-Fred Muller as Manfred lend sound comic support as Schultze's buddies. Interestingly, all the roles are filled with such natural actors that the whole venture often feels like a documentary, especially when the film comes stateside.
While I enjoyed Axel Schneppat's cinematography, I think the editing by Tina Hillmann is frankly not disciplined enough to completely pull off such a sweet-spirited parable, and from my perspective, the 114-minute film could have easily been shortened by a half-hour. After all, Schultze's journey to Louisiana doesn't happen until well after the one-hour mark. I also think that Schorr views Schultze a bit too much at arm's length and doesn't allow us to get to know him beyond the thoughtful, befuddled man that Schorr presents here. For example, there is a lovely scene near the end of the film where Schultze asks for water from a local woman cooking crabs, but it's not clear beyond her sense of giving why a bonding occurs between the two. If there is a moment of catharsis for Schultze, I'm not sure I was aware of it. The charm of the 2003 movie, however, will likely sway you if you are patient enough to absorb the deliberate pacing. The DVD's one significant extra is Schorr's detailed, informative commentary on an alternate track. He speaks in German but the English subtitles help translate his often illuminating remarks. There are three similar, German-language trailers included, as well as various previews for other Paramount Classics films.