francois@yale-com.UUCP (Charles B. Francois) (11/22/83)
Second of two articles on Frank Ripploh's "Taxi Zum Klo". About one year later, one of the six film societies on campus showed it, and I talked a nongay friend into seeing it with me. To say that it turned out to be one of the more uncomfortable 90 minutes of my life is an understatement. Now, I don't take back any of what I've said about the movie so far. It was not so much my thoughts as my feelings that changed about the film on that particular occasion. So the next comments probably say more about me than they do about the movie. What happened is that I found myself looking at the movie through my friend's eyes and seeing it in a different light. Essentially, I became more critical of Ripploh's actual character than I had been the first time. Back then, I had confined my attention to his abilities as a filmmaker, and I didn't see any need to pass judgement on him or his personal attitudes. To each his own. But amidst a nongay audience, I couldn't help falling prey to the classic "minority role model" syndrome. Sidney Poitier in the sixties and the gay community's objections to "Cruising" are different aspects of that syndrome. In other words, when members of a minority are first presented, say, on the screen, audience members of that minority tend to prefer favorable portrayals over unflattering ones, or, more exactly, individual members tend to wish for a portrayal in accord with their own idea of how they should be portrayed. And Frank Ripploh is simply not someone I would want the world to behold as a prototypical gay male. Of course there is no such thing as a prototypical gay male, and moreover, the essence of the movie is precisely to present a unique case history. Furthermore, there are other gay characters in the movie who are totally unlike Ripploh (his lover for ex
jeff@tesla.UUCP (11/24/83)
The movies the chap at the end of the machine called "francois" likes seem
to be escapist entertainment; Taxi zum Klo is hardly escapist. It is,
I think, very real, and portrays realistically a rather sordid character.
For its realism, its lack of either idealization of the type ("personal
best") or playing to the galleries (cage aux folles), TZK is celebrated.
Maybe it's unpleasant to see such a face presented to the world, but it
IS a true portrayal of a type. It's hardly a work of art, it's grainy,
unedifying, just a documentary, really. But it's celebrated because
it's a straightforward presentation of what must be to the majority
of those who see it (i.e., straight people) a rather exotic form of
sordidness. Surely there must be other films of interest to this
group than those already mentioned? Something MUST have been produced
in Berlin during the Isherwood days? Any film-history buffs out
there?
Jeffsdyer@bbncca.ARPA (Steve Dyer) (11/26/83)
I felt a bit like Charles Francois when I saw TZK. The issue isn't escapism vs. gritty realism, so much as an appreciation of the political consequences of presenting a less than flattering portrait of gay life to the community at large. I fear that straights will take TZK as a general example of gay behavior, and extrapolate from there, rather than treating it as an individual portrait. Some might accuse me of underestimating the intelligence of straight viewers--I don't know, but I'll fear the worst and hope I'll be proved wrong. Here's a proposition: gays see a different movie in TZK than straights. The average straight person sees (and can't see past) the anonymous sex, weird practices and general sordidness of Ripploh's life. It's rather like going to a high-brow freak show. On the other hand, mainstream gay viewers don't dwell on the sleazier portions of the film, simply because such images are already part of the detritus of urban gay life. Regardless of an individual's own behavior or opinions, these scenes have lost their ability to shock (though I still heard lots of "ughs" during the movie.) The poignancy of this film lies in the main character's alienation from his society, his inability to maintain close relationships, and his self- destructive egoism which drives the film through to its conclusion. -- /Steve Dyer decvax!bbncca!sdyer sdyer@bbncca
sdyer@bbncca.ARPA (11/26/83)
References: yale-com.2452 <248@tesla.UUCP> Relay-Version:version B 2.10.1 6/24/83; site duke.UUCP Posting-Version:version B 2.10 5/3/83; site bbncca.ARPA Path:duke!decvax!bbncca!sdyer Message-ID:<348@bbncca.ARPA> Date:Sat, 26-Nov-83 12:44:39 EST Organization:Bolt, Beranek and Newman, Cambridge, Ma. I felt a bit like Charles Francois when I saw TZK. The issue isn't escapism vs. gritty realism, so much as an appreciation of the political consequences of presenting a less than flattering portrait of gay life to the community at large. I fear that straights will take TZK as a general example of gay behavior, and extrapolate from there, rather than treating it as an individual portrait. Some might accuse me of underestimating the intelligence of straight viewers--I don't know, but I'll fear the worst and hope I'll be proved wrong. Here's a proposition: gays see a different movie in TZK than straights. The average straight person sees (and can't see past) the anonymous sex, weird practices and general sordidness of Ripploh's life. It's rather like going to a high-brow freak show. On the other hand, mainstream gay viewers don't dwell on the sleazier portions of the film, simply because such images are already part of the detritus of urban gay life. Regardless of an individual's own behavior or opinions, these scenes have lost their ability to shock (though I still heard lots of "ughs" during the movie.) The poignancy of this film lies in the main character's alienation from his society, his inability to maintain close relationships, and his self- destructive egoism which drives the film through to its conclusion. -- /Steve Dyer decvax!bbncca!sdyer sdyer@bbncca