Ursúla Guðmundsson likes to polish her nails. She says it’s important because her hands are very precious to her. We watch her carefully apply the polish on her 80-something year-old hands and we realise that she is trying to match the pink with her lipstick and her outfit. When Ursúla was a young woman, her hands bled from the manual labour she did and hurt from the washing powder she used to handwash the clothes of 13 people every week. Ursúla Guðmundsson was born Ursula Quade and emigrated from Germany to Iceland after the Second World War. She is one of six enigmatic older women that director Heike Fink portrays in a beautiful film that talks about a little known part of German migration.
Last Saturday Mitte saw the opening of the year: finally, after several delays, the Christoph Schlingensief exhibition, curated by Klaus Biesenbach, Anna-Catharina Gebbers and Susanne Pfeffer with the artistic advisory of Schlingensief’s widow, Aino Laberenz, was opened at Kunst-Werke. What was initially planned by Pfeffer and Schlingensief himself, is now, three years after his death, finally visible in the in Auguststraße – although the curators repeatedly insist that it’s not a retrospective, not a concluding show, but the starting point for various inspections of Schlingensief, it’s certainly the broadest survey of his creative work to date. Which also means you should take your time to get at least a glimpse of the massive amount of material on display. Some say you’ll need five days to view it all.
What is it about fairy tales that still makes them so fascinating to us even though we have known their stories since our childhood? Is it nostalgia? Are we conservative if we like them because we need to be retold the same old tale over and over again? More than 200 years after the Grimm Brothers wrote Snow White, Spanish director Pablo Berger now retells the story of a young beautiful girl and her vicious stepmother for the cinema. The result might be based on a famous fairy tale, but it is so unique, original, and enchanting that you almost wish more filmmakers would use well-known stories to express their fresh artistic visions.
Do you still remember the first time you rewatched an old animated cartoon film as an adult? I still do, and I was amazed that this film- I believe it was a Disney classic- worked for a grown-up audience as well. I realized that it was filled with innuendos, puns, and cultural references and simultaneously worked for its main target audience, the child viewers. Despite the impressive empire of Walt Disney Company, great animated films have always had a second home in Japan, often with a slightly more poetic and less conventional feel to them. Now, more than two years after its release in Japan, From Up on Poppy Hill, a fascinating coming-of-age story from the famous Japanese Ghibli Studios, finally finds its way into German cinemas and reveals its beautifully drawn magic on big screens around the country.
Long before the hipster there was the nerd who now, thanks to hipster culture and its appropriation of nerd codes and styles, seems to have become an extinct species. There was a time when “uncool” people wore horn-rimmed glasses and weird hairstyles unironically. The preferred domain of these nerd types was the world of computers and their codes consisted of zeros and ones. Nerds were outsiders and loners and it was easy to make fun of the fact that they were living in a parallel universe. Mumblecore director Andrew Bujalski now remembers the peak of 1980s nerd computer culture in his new film and has produced a little masterpiece of modern retro-history and ironic social observations.