I never did make it to any of the SFMOMA screenings, but I finished the last episode of Berlin Alexanderplatz a couple days ago and then watched the insanity that is the epilogue tonight. In some ways the epilogue is unnecessary, as the motifs that run throughout the film resolve themselves satisfyingly (though tragically) at the end of Part 13. I was reminded of Kieslowski's Decalogue, watching the pieces fall into place. From Franz's lipstick-smeared face in the opening scene poignantly recalling Ida's bloody mouth, to his unashamedly relieved laughter when he learns that Mieze didn't abandon him after all, not of her own will anyway, I was an utter emotional wreck. And then the epilogue brings back a virtual pantheon of characters, some of whom I hadn't seen since the beginning of the film, as the viewer descends with Franz into utter psychosis. Even the soundtrack kept throwing me for a loop, with its anachronistic mixture of Kraftwerk, Leonard Cohen, Velvet Underground and Donovan. There are several scenes where the camera spins dizzyingly, and I literally had to grip the couch out of a feeling of vertigo. Basically Fassbinder amps the surrealism to 11, making the violent and sexual undercurrents even more decidedly overt, and throws in two sardonic observing angels for good measure. And yet, after everything that had gone before, it made a perfect kind of sense, and I was genuinely grateful for the chance to spend another two hours with Franz (and Mieze, and Eva, and Meck, and Max...). I'm certainly ready to take a wee break from experimental German cinema, but I'm going to miss some of those characters. Also, now that I'm done I think I (as well the whole support group on Open Space) deserve a t-shirt.
In other news, on my lunch break today I took a tip from the SF Bay Guardian and ran up to Marx & Zavattero (formerly Heather Marx Gallery) to see the installation there by local artist Matt Gil: Reel to Real. The centerpiece of the show is an elegant conveyor belt constructed by Gil that stretches from one end of the gallery to the other and back again. The gallery attendant helpfully switched it on for me as soon as he spied me heading in the door, and Gil's colorful ceramic sculptures each presented themselves in turn as the gears ground away. The pieces are highly reminiscent of mid-century modern work with their abstract shapes and glazed surfaces, and I almost fell into a trance not unlike what happens at a boat sushi joint with all the yummy choices in front of me. Equally hypnotizing were the shadows cast on the walls thanks to bright spotlights mounted just below the conveyor belt. The exhibition is completed by two giant floor-standing sculptures by Gil, as well as a number of his watercolors on the walls, that echoed the shapes on the mechanized contraption in the middle of the room. He gets full points from me for creative presentation.
