Moving
picture technology has always moved at an accelerated rate, even during its
infancy. Max Skladanowsky is a perfect example. His Bioscope was the state of
the art in flickering images, until the Lumière Brothers introduced something
better—a few weeks later. Wim Wenders and his students from the Munich Academy
for Television and Film tell the Skladanowsky family’s story with the sort of
hand-cranked technology the Skladanowskys would have used in the hybrid
documentary A Trick of the Light, which kicks off
its first legit U.S. theatrical engagement this Friday at the IFC Center as
part of the ongoing Wim Wenders:
Portraits Along the Road retrospective.
When
Wenders and his student-crew interview the ninety-one year old Gertrude Skladanowsky,
they are talking to motion picture history, but it was her older sister Lucie
who really witnessed the Bioscope’s short reign first hand. She was raised by
her father Max and his two brothers, Eugen and Emil, whom she adored. Their
vaudevillian family is scuffling, but they have high hopes Max’s tinkering will
lead to something. When he finally gives Berlin’s leading impresarios a sneak
peak, they are impressed enough to book the Skladanowsky Brothers for a grand
premiere at their Wintergarten Theater.
The
better part of the stylized, herky-jerky dramatic recreations are devoted to
the various acts they film and the stressful circumstances surrounding their
big night. Yet, the tone is always bitter sweet, since we know from the start
their Bioscope will soon be rendered obsolete by the Lumières. Still, it seems
they remained rather enterprising to judge Gertrude’s reminiscences. Far from a
conventional talking head interview, her sequences are “haunted” by the
rebellious ghost of Lucie, played by the same young actress, but they cannot
upstage the nonagenarian’s sense of humor and history.
In
terms of its visuals and atmosphere, Trick
is probably Wenders’ most Guy Maddinesque film, especially considering Udo
Kier appears Max Skladanowsky, somewhat playing against his usual creepy type
(it would go particularly well with The Forbidden Room, which screens at the upcoming NYFF). He actually anchors
the dramatic section rather effectively with his tragic Teutonic dignity and
uncharacteristic reserve. In contrast, Otto Kuhnle does plenty of shameless mugging
as Uncle Emil, but it is not wholly inappropriate given the context—Mack Sennett
surely would have approved.
