Rote Sonne (1970)

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Rote Sonne (1970). 1h 29m

“Thereu0026#39;s a long, stringent thread in German art movie tradition: the much-heralded u0026quot;social relevanceu0026quot; almost always serves as an excuse for brainless ennui. Rudolf Thomeu0026#39;s Rote Sonne, enthusiastically hailed in 1970 by Wim Wenders as the future of the so-called Autorenfilm, makes no difference. Slurring slacker Marquard Bohm moves like a grubby sleepwalker through the spartanly furnished rooms of a flat in Munich his girlfriend (astoundingly bland: Uschi Obermaier, anyway good enough for Jimi Hendrix when he was totally doped in 1968) shares with three other gals out to pick a bloody bone with dudes. Unfortunately the hausfrauen fatales never take action; instead, you get witless blather without end, certainly no story – weu0026#39;re in a German movie here, already forgotten? –, zero erotic ambiance, the monotonous repetition of Albinoniu0026#39;s Adagio in C minor, and the zombie-esque performances of the participants that Wenders tried to sell with the following: u0026quot;The actors are just boldly present in the scenes, talking and acting as if they do not know whatu0026#39;s next …u0026quot; Well observed, Wim! The shootout at Lake Starnberg – noticeably an homage to Vidoru0026#39;s Duel in the Sun – might be the most amateurish piece of crap Jesús Franco never dared to put in front of a lens, but an even bigger letdown are the 4.99 Deutsche Mark Hu0026amp;M synthetic skirts of the overwhelmingly unsexy chicks. Before you object: The Swedish clothing retailer was founded in 1947.”


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