Strange Lands: The End of August at the Hotel Ozone

Jaromír Vejvoda’s “Roll Out the Barrel” (a.k.a. “Beer Barrel Polka”) is probably the bestselling polka tune of all time. Will Glahé hit #1 on the U.S. charts with his traditional recording before it was reworked into the Andrews Sisters’ wag-waver “Here Comes the Navy.” It is also the only record to survive the apocalypse in Jan Schmidt’s The End of August at the Hotel Ozone, which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center current series, Strange Lands: International Sci-Fi.

Frankly, a beer might help those settling in to watch Ozone, because Schmidt presents a distinctly bleak and vaguely absurdist vision of the future. Years after some sort of nuclear Armageddon (the details are hazy), an old woman with implied military training leads a band of unruly women born post-apocalypse through the Doupov Mountains. It seems the end of the world hit men the hardest, due to their higher vulnerability to the subsequent diseases. The old woman honestly doubts there are any left, but she keeps looking anyway, in the vain hope one of her rag-tag troupe will become the Eve to his Adam.

Unfortunately, the younger women do not inspire much confidence in humanity’s future. During most of the rather aimless opening half, the teen to twentysomethings mostly quarrel with each other in between random acts of animal cruelty (Peta would have a conniption fit if anyone ever tried to reshoot some of Schmidt’s sequences). However, their wanderings eventually take them to the “Hotel Ozon,” which is still maintained by its old caretaker. Yes, he is a man, about the same age as their leader. Initially, he is overjoyed by their company, especially that of his fellow doomsday survivor. However, ignorance will inevitably lead to tragedy.

Ozone is a dashed hard film to get one’s head and arms around. Presumably, it was green-lit by the Party authorities with the expectation it could serve as a pseudo-peacenik propaganda piece, attacking the capitalist warmongers. Instead, it is a politically neutral indictment of human nature and a sharp rebuke to utopianism in any form.

Considering the grave circumstances, it is difficult to understand how the younger women could be so reckless and wasteful with scarce resources. Perhaps we are supposed to ask whether they are any different than those who caused the end of the world. Still, the film brings to mind a famous Reagan story. Reportedly, while still governor, his official motorcade was briefly blocked by protestors, one of whom tapped on his window holding a sign saying “we are the future.” Without skipping a beat, he jotted the response: “then I’m selling my bonds.”

Indeed, there is little by way of character development for any of the post-Armageddon women. In contrast, Beta Ponicanová’s performance as the old woman is unusually mature and subtlety shaded. Likewise, Ondrej Jariabek is achingly tragic as the old man. Their scenes together carry real weight and power. Nevertheless, the film leaves us feeling sort of confused and stranded.

So yes, youth is wasted on the young. Happily, the world did not end in 1967. In fact, then Czechoslovakia successfully threw off its Communist oppressors during the Velvet Revolution. Unlike the almost feral younger generation of Ozone, Vejvoda’s son Josef would honor his father legacy and respect his musical tradition, becoming an accomplished jazz drummer and composer. Check out his arresting “Angel’s Cry in My Head, Angel’s Laughter in My Heart” here. The recording quality is not so hot, but the venue is quite fitting and the quote from “Barrel” makes it barely relevant to the discussion at hand. Granted, Schmidt’s Ozone is an interesting relic from the past, but the music of both Vejvodas is more strongly recommended. Not exactly unmissable, The End of August at the Hotel Ozone screens this coming Thursday (8/28) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of Strange Lands.

Strange Lands: Morel’s Invention

Morel’s Mediterranean party palace looks like Xanadu as refurbished by Le Corbusier. The music and fashions are vintage 1920s, whereas the technology he has developed is considerably more to near side of “near-future” than when Adolfo Bioy Casares’ 1940 novel was first published. Nevertheless, its big revelation still comes as a surprise. Yet, the real drama derives from the fugitive protagonist’s tortured response in Emidio Greco’s Morel’s Invention (trailer here), which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center new series, Strange Lands: International Sci-Fi.

He is a castaway who does not wish to be found. Washing up on a deserted island, he finds a dusty, closed-up villa, but as soon as he reconnects the power and water, Morel arrives with his guests for a week of low impact revelry. The interloper tries to avoid them, but he becomes fascinated with the beautiful Faustine. His infatuation grows deeper when he witnesses her rebuffing Morel. However, when he rashly approaches her, she refuses to acknowledge him.

Of course, something extraordinary is afoot or Invention would not be programmed during Strange Lands. However, be advised some of the FSLC descriptive copy gives away too much of the game. Frankly, you might kick yourself for not guessing it, but editor Mario Chiari seamlessly cuts the film together, effectively hiding the secret in plain sight.

For those previously unfamiliar with the Argentine novel[la], Greco’s Italian film, or a subsequent English short film based on the same source material, Morel’s Invention is the biggest find of the series. The first act set-up requires a little patience, but the pay-off is shockingly moving. Even though it is very much set in the terrestrial world, it completely takes viewers out of their current mindset.

Godard’s onetime muse Anna Karina is absolutely perfect as the beautiful but distant Faustine. The role of Morel, the inventor with profound tunnel vision, also fits British Giallo veteran John Steiner like a glove. Nevertheless, it is Giulio Brogi who really lowers the emotional boom as the tragic castaway.

Invention’s coastal beaches and art deco interiors are absolutely stunning, rivaling the Village from The Prisoner series as desirable speculative fiction setting for a vacation getaway. In fact, that helps explain certain decisions that are made. Masterfully orchestrated by Greco, it is an under-heralded masterwork of international cinema. Highly recommended, Morel’s Invention screens this coming Wednesday (8/27) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of Strange Lands.

Strange Lands: The 10th Victim

It is odd when an author novelizes himself, but is sort of what Robert Sheckley did. He wrote the short story adapted as the film that he subsequently wrote the novelization for. He then wrote two original sequels. Give the credit to Ursula Andress’s deadly brassiere. Sure you can call it satirical sociological science fiction, but it is really about being beautiful in Rome. Life is short but hedonistic in Elio Petri’s The 10^th Victim (trailer here), which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center new series, Strange Lands: International Sci-Fi.

To placate humanity’s violent instincts, the global authorities instituted the Big Hunt. Participating players compete in ten hunts, alternating as hunter and victims. Hunters are fully informed of their prey’s habits and background, whereas victims simply better be careful. Players who survive ten hunts win fame and a fortune in 1965 dollars. Those that don’t are dead.

American Caroline Meredith is one hunt away from completing the cycle. Her victim will be Marcello Polletti, an upcoming Italian player saddled with excessive debt and excessive lovers. To maximize publicity for her sponsor, the Ming Tea Company, Meredith plans to kill Polletti on live television at the Temple of Venus. Of course, Polletti is automatically suspicious when Meredith approaches him in the guise of a television reporter. Nevertheless, they are instantly (albeit warily) attracted to each other. Even though he suspects he will have to kill Meredith, Polletti starts to play along, hoping it will not come to that.

With its depiction of legalized murder serving as a social pressure relief valve, 10^th Victim predates scores of dystopian films, such as Running Man, The Purge, Hunger Games, Battle Royale, and the French film Le Prix du Danger, which was based on another Sheckley short story. However, the Big Hunt is arguably more about alleviating the ennui of modern life than appealing to man’s more savage instincts.

Playing a bored playboy, Marcello Mastroianni truly spread his wings in 10^th Victim. Considering he had to romance Ursula Andress, he also really took one for the team. Frankly, it is a little bizarre to see Andress playing a Yank, given how often distributors over-dubbed her for the American market. However, she looks great in Meredith’s lethal couture (but not so much Mastroianni’s blond die job). Yet, even with their tongues firmly planted in cheeks, Mastroianni and Andress generate plenty of heat together.

10^th Victim’s script (credited to Petri and a battalion of collaborators) is almost too glib for its own good, but the style is to die for. Petri prioritizes attitude over suspense, thoroughly sending up the hyper-real decadence of Mastroianni’s Fellini oeuvre. It all looks and sound great, thanks to Piero Piccioni’s wickedly groovy soundtrack, cinematographer Gianni Di Venanzo’s eye for flash-and-dazzle, and costume designer Giulio Coltellacci’s fab frocks. You don’t really invest in 10^th Victim as a movie, but it is hard not to enjoy it on its own terms. Recommended for fans of the superstar cast and those who can appreciate some mordant Italian irony, The 10^th Victim screens this coming Wednesday (10/27) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of Strange Lands.

Strange Lands: In the Dust of the Stars

Would you travel halfway across the galaxy to check out a prank call? Supposedly, that is exactly what this star-faring crew has done. However, once they arrive on TEM 4, they are assured there is nothing to see here, so please move along. Thanks to the brainwashing, most of them are inclined to agree. Of course, there is a sinister scheme afoot in Gottfried Kolditz’s In the Dust of the Stars (trailer here), which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center new series, Strange Lands: International Sci-Fi.

Say what you will about the locals, but they throw a smashing party. The entire crew is quite taken with their psychedelic hospitality, except Suko the navigator, who stayed behind to nurse his suspicions about the “accidental” distress call that brought them to this swinging planet. As a result, he is the only one not to get dosed by their sonic mind-blocking device. Rather put out by his fellow crewmembers’ giddy compliance, Suko will single-handed uncover the truth on TEM 4. However, it is not like his comrades would be much help, even under the best of circumstances.

Frankly, the Cynro crew inspires even less confidence than Peter Davison’s Doctor Who—and it starts right at the top. In 1978, a woman space captain might have been considered a progressive symbol, but Akala is no Janeway, not by a long shot. She is indecisive, gullible, and conspicuously frustrated by her unconsummated longing for Suko. Clearly, he shares her lust, but he makes do with a willing subordinate instead, presumably out of respect for the chain of command.

The entire Cynro crew looks like a wish fulfillment fantasy, consisting of a couple middle aged dudes and half a dozen hotties in mod jumpsuits. Indeed, Dust features some of the most flamboyant costumes this side of The Fifth Element. In terms of narrative, it is sort of like a middling Star Trek episode in which Yeoman Rand performs a naked interpretive dance, but Dust is really about its candy-colored sets and costumes, as wells as its free-loving melodrama.

It is hard to believe this was a co-production of the GDR and Romania. One can only imagine the expressions of bewilderment on the scoldy state censors’ faces as they watched the Temer dancers Vogueing through the “Boss’s” Henry Moore sculpture garden, but since the oppressed eventually rise up against their oppressors, Dust was apparently safe as houses.

The general hamminess of the ensemble hardly matters either. Arguably, Alfred Stuwe fares the best as Suko and Jana Brejchová (the one-time Mrs. Miloš Forman) gets by okay as Akala. On the other hand, Ekkehard Schall and Milan Beli bring extra cheese as the boss and his chief enforcer, Ronk.

Dust is a ton of fun in a trippy retro kind of way. Karl-Ernst Sasse’s groovy soundtrack is a classic of its kind and production designer Christa Helwig truly crafted a strange land. Recommended as a lava lamp curio from the DEFA filmography, In the Dust of the Stars screens this Saturday (8/23) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of the Strange Lands film series.

Strange Lands: Eolomea

Eolomea is sort of like utopia or Erehwon, except it really might exist—maybe. It is one of the great debates of Prof. Maria Scholl’s age, but she is more concerned with the recent rash of vanished cargo ships. As she pursues her investigation, she will need the help of her summer fling in Hermann Zschoche’s Eolomea, which screens during the Film Society of Lincoln Center new series, Strange Lands: International Sci-Fi.

In a case of rotten timing, yet another space freighter loses contact with space station Margot just as Scholl is giving her report to the UN-like council of interplanetary busybodies. Strangely, her toughest critic, Prof. Oli Tal, seems to know all the details already, including the presence of his daughter on the latest missing vessel.

Tal was not always such a bureaucratic boor. He was once a hotshot flight officer, who was keen to initiate an expedition to Eolomea. Unfortunately, he could never entirely prove its existence, so no mission was ever authorized. Ironically, Tal becomes one of Scholl’s friendlier associates, as she diplomatically probes him for the truth. At least, he will meet her for lovely picnics and a spot of witty repartee. Still, he is no substitute for Dan Lagny, the disgruntled moonbase crewmember, whom she met during a recent seaside holiday. Although Lagny wanted to resign (and perhaps pursue a serious relationship with Scholl), he is too talented for Scholl to approve his release. Indeed, she will be quite glad to rendezvous with him when she lights off to Margot herself.

Of the major science fiction films produced by the East German studio DEFA, Eolomea is the critical redheaded stepchild, but it is really the best of the lot. Frankly, its withering depiction of a risk-averse bureaucracy stifling space exploration feels more John Galt than Erich Honecker (but perhaps the space station was a hat tip to his wife Margot). It also presents a rather crummy, dysfunctional vision of the future, not so very different from the GDR’s crummy, dysfunctional socialist present.

Yet, in subtle ways, it portrays how mankind has yet to emotionally acclimate to the interstellar age. This is particularly acute in the case of Pilot Kun, Lagny’s grizzled old comrade. Surprisingly, Eolomea is quite touching, serving as an elegy to the relationships and connections that were ultimately not meant to be.

As Scholl, Dutch actress Cox Habbema carries the film with grace, smartly playing off Rolf Hoppe’s Tal and Ivan Andonov’s Lagny. Hoppe (seen in Volker Schlöndorff’s English language Palmetto and a raft of German television productions) is a standout as the exasperating but charming Tal, while Vsevolod Sanayev nicely embodies the film’s increasingly confused human element as old Kun.

Arguably, Eolomea is a deceptively simple story, but it captures the romantic spirit of space exploration. Fans will also appreciate Günther Fischer’s groovy soundtrack, which sounds more in keeping with some of its trippier DEFA counterparts. Granted, the over abundance of temporal shifts is counterproductive, but it still has a unique vibe that sticks with you weeks after watching it. Recommended as the class of DEFA science fiction, Eolomea screens this Saturday night (8/23) at the Walter Reade Theater, as part of Strange Lands.