|
WSWS : Arts
Review : Film
Reviews
1994 Toronto International Film Festival
Amos Gitai's The Neo-Fascist Trilogy: A murder in Germany
By David Walsh
24 October 1994
The first segment of Amos Gitai's The Neo-Fascist Trilogy,
which is entitled In the Valley of the Wupper, examines
the circumstances surrounding a killing that took place in the
western German city of Wuppertal.
The facts are these: On November 12, 1992 a man got into a
conversation with two neo-Nazi youth in a bar. At one point the
barman called out to the two skinheads that their drinking companion
was a Jew. The man replied, jokingly, I'm not a Jew, I'm just
half a Jew. (In fact, he wasn't Jewish at all.)
Some time later one of the neo-Nazis knocked the man to the
floor and the two proceeded to stomp him to death. They then poured
schnapps on the corpse and lit it. Later they transported the
body to Holland and dumped it in the woods.
Any serious work about the resurgence of fascism in Germany
raises historical parallels. Without making any specific references
to history, the film demonstrates how the present is saturated
by the past.
To give one example--railway trains and stations figure prominently.
What does the German railway network bring to mind? Images of
the millions of European Jews transported in cattle-cars. In one
Wuppertal station the camera observes what appears to be a small
monument to those shipped to various concentration camps. The
police arrive and demand to see proof that the filming is authorized.
Gitai, born in Haifa, Israel in 1950, has made numerous short
and full-length documentary and fictional films over the past
20 years, including House (1980), Bangkok-Bahrain
(1984) and Berlin-Jerusalem (1989).
To its credit, In the Valley of the Wupper unsettles
an audience, both by its content and its form. Images and details
are repeated. The repetition is suggestive: Something terrible
has happened and it is not over yet.
The public prosecutor explains in detail the facts of the case
and makes no secret of the political views of the killers and
the fact that they believed the victim to be a Jew. But he justifies
the decision not to charge the skinheads with murder on the grounds
that it is impossible to prove they were motivated by anti-Semitism.
One of the most disturbing scenes is an interview with a group
of right-wing youth in a shopping mall. We're just defending ourselves
against the "foreigners," they claim. Some of the youth
are politically-motivated fascists, others are simply ignorant
and backward.
The filmmakers also interview Turkish workers at an open-air
market, some of whom have been in the country for 20 or more years.
In a hostel, asylum seekers express their incredulity over the
racism they face.
Inevitably there are complexities that the film does not, perhaps
cannot, adequately approach. The brief interviews it presents
with Wuppertal residents are not terribly helpful. To grasp the
present paralysis of the German working class in the face of the
fascist attacks requires an understanding of the terrible betrayals
it has suffered over the past three-quarters of a century, something
which is clearly outside of the scope of such a film.
The second part of the trilogy, In the Name of the Duce,
made during Alessandra Mussolini's mayoral campaign in Naples
in 1993, is not as strong. First of all, it is less wide-ranging
in its examination of events. The filmmakers interview Italian
Jews who recount their suffering under Mussolini's dictatorship,
but the central sequence takes place inside the neo-fascist party
headquarters in Naples.
There is no way to explain the right wing's success without
taking up the rotten role of the Communist Party as a pillar of
postwar Italian capitalism. Otherwise, the election results are
incomprehensible. This is the main problem with the Italian sequence.
The third part of the film, set in a Paris suburb, was not
available for screening.
In the Valley of the Wupper ends with the camera tracking
through the Dutch countryside at night in the rain, while the
voices of the prosecutor and one of the lawyers calmly describe
the events of November 12, 1992. No other film in the Toronto
festival contained a more powerful or haunting image.
Top of page
The WSWS invites your comments.
Copyright 1998-2008
World Socialist Web Site
All rights reserved |