Austria
might summon images of famous composers, but it has also had its share of psychopaths. Ignoring the rather obvious historical
examples, the recent case of Josef Fritzl horrified all of Europe in 2008. The case of Werner Kniesek similarly
scandalized Austrians in 1980. Unrepentantly
sadist, the notorious Kniesek served as a model for the twisted protagonist of
Gerald Kargl’s Angst. A rare Austrian foray into the serial killer
genre, Angst featured the inventive
cinematography of future Academy Award winner Zbigniew Rybczyński, who found
Austria more hospitable after the Jaruzelski regime imposed Martial Law because
of his vocal support for Polish Solidarity.
A film indelibly marked by Rybczyński’s contributions, Kargl’s Angst (trailer here) screens this
week as part of Shot by Rybczyński, a
two film retrospective of the Polish filmmaker’s work as a cinematographer at
the Spectacle Theater in Brooklyn.
Kargl’s
unnamed POV character-narrator is about to make a good case for capital
punishment. Twice convicted of murder,
he can only think of one thing during his release from prison—finding new
victims. The café he stumbles into is a
little too public and the female cab-driver he eyes is a little too
resourceful. However, she summarily
ejects him near a secluded McMansion that should serve his needs well. It looks like their nearest neighbor is Dr.
Heiter from Human Centipede.
Skulking
about, the freshly released murderer begins stalking the residents: an
apparently developmentally disabled man in a wheel chair, his younger sister,
and their ailing mother. Though undeniably
vicious, none of his attacks goes exactly according to plan, which further
stokes his rage.
Angst has quite a
reputation in its own right. Though
tagged with X ratings or the equivalent in several countries, it might seem
relatively restrained to a generation weaned on Saw and Hostel movies, at
least until the narrator’s third kill.
Then all bets are off. Consider
yourself warned.
Typically,
psychological analysis in film is reserved for directors, screenwriters, and occasionally
actors. However, it seems worth noting
this cinematic expression of extreme alienation was lensed by Rybczyński, the
exile. Similarly, as a dissident from
Communist Poland, he would be uniquely qualified to understand the evil that
small banal men do.
Indeed,
the nameless murderer of Angst is
exceptionally unexceptional. Kargl’s
refusal to glamorize or in any way build him up distinguishes the film from
nearly every subsequent serial killer movie.
Rybczyński’s work on the other hand, is quite distinctive. Cool and severe, but rife with foreboding, the
closest comparison would be Bruno Nuytten’s icily polished work on Andrzej
Żuławski’s Possession. Shot from odd angles employing improvised
slings, Angst is a restlessly
kinetic, visually dramatic tour-de-force example of how a cinematographer can
put their stamp on a film.
Angst
is a bold and stylish depiction of human nature
at its worst. If you are wondering
whether it is for you, then the answer is probably no. However, it should be required viewing for
adventurous fans of cult cinema. Highly
recommended for those confident they won’t be scarred by the horrors found
within, Angst kicks off the Spectacle’s
Shot by Rybczyński tribute this
Thursday (5/10) and screens again Sunday (5/13) and Friday (5/25).
