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WOLFSBURG
6/10
Germany 2002 (premiered 2003) : Christian PETZOLD : 90 mins
After the masterly The State I
Am In and Something
To Remind Me, Wolfsburg represents something of a disappointment
from European cinema’s reigning “poet of apprehension.”
But, taken on its own terms, this is an effective, slow-burning study
of guilt and grief. At this stage in his career, however, Petzold needs
to deliver rather more if he’s to make his long-overdue breakthrough
to the next level of international renown: at the time of writing, not
one of his films has ever obtained commercial distribution. That situation
isn’t likely to change as a result of the rather too low-key Wolfsburg,
a film named after its setting: the northern German city known as Volkswagen’s
‘company town.’
But while the film revolves around ‘car trouble’ of various kinds,
VW oddly isn’t mentioned once – the autos we see are
mainly Fords and Audis. They’re the stock in trade of Philipp (Benno
Furmann from The
Princess and the Warrior) a thirtysomething yuppie-ish car-salesman
whose relationship with fiancee Katja (Antje Westermann) isn’t going
too well. Driving through a deserted rural area on the town’s outskirts
one day, a lapse in concentration after a mobile-phone-row with Katja
leads to Philipp knocking down a young cyclist, Paul (Martin Museler).
Impulsively driving off, Philipp is racked by guilt and fear of punishment.
He surreptitiously tracks down Paul to hospital, where he gets to know
the boy’s mother, Laura (Nina Hoss). Paul dies, and Philipp and Laura
eventually drift into a relationship – which, when Katja twigs on,
causes crises at work as well at home as her brother Klaus (Stephan Kampwirth)
is Paul’s boss. His life falling apart, Paul throws himself into
an amour fou with Laura – who is determined to track down
her child’s killer…
Like 21 Grams, Wolfsburg
traces the spiralling tragic/romantic consequences of an automobile
accident: “One thing leads to another,” someone says, summing
up one of Petzold’s recurring concern. But whereas Grams tries
to distract the viewer from its more melodramatic aspects with gimmicky
script construction and hyperkinetic editing, Wolfsburg risks a
cooler, more distanced and matter-of-fact approach. It’s essentially
a stripped-down two-handed character study, and the performances by Hoss
(as in Something, an implacable angel-of-vengeance) and Furmann
(haunted, hollow-eyed, intense) are sufficiently strong to overcome the
contrived aspects of the couple’s background connection.
It’s clear that, as a result of his split-second decisions on that quiet
country lane – one act of commission, one of omission - Philipp is
doomed and damned, spiralling helplessly towards his fate. Likewise, we
see that Laura effectively died with her son: a single mother, stuck in
a dead-end job, she’s little else to sustain her. Until, of course,
Philipp comes along – but it’s only matter of time before the
truth emerges and the couple’s tentative happiness shatters into
dangerous shards of revenge.
In State and Something, Petzold meticulously structured his screenplays
so that they only made sense in the final reel, the tension building throughout
until the climactic twist was revealed. Wolfsburg similar ratchets
up the anxiety levels as we wait for the inevitable catastrophe, but the
payoff doesn’t quite hit the mark this time: Laura’s discovery
of the truth relies on an implausibly careless slip from Philipp. Unless,
we’re supposed to infer that he subconsciously desires the punishment
he knows Laura won’t hesitate to deliver. Ending with an unexpectedly
quiet and ambiguous coda, Wolfsburg remains open to interpretation
and, refreshingly doesn’t feel the need to deliver answers to all
the questions it poses. It’s a minor work from a major talent.
21st November, 2003
(seen 5th November : National Film Theatre, London – London
Film Festival)
click here for a full list of films covered
at the 2003 London Film Festival
by Neil
Young
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