Alex Bakshaev first impressed SGM several years ago with his singular directorial debut, NAKED TRIP. What was immediately apparent with that project was the fledgling filmmaker’s understanding of the language of cinema: toying with European tropes while eschewing linear storytelling techniques, the end result was a no-budget film as evocative of Godard as it was of Rollin. Which isn’t something you come across every day.
It’s great to welcome Bakshaev back with his latest film, the 50-minute spectacle THE DEVIL OF KREUZBERG. Once again, arthouse aesthetics collide with grindhouse sensibilities – albeit, the results being more refined, and far more Gothic-flavoured, here.
Filmed – as the title suggests – in Germany, the story was written by Pippo Schund (who wrote and starred in Bakshaev’s earlier short ZARTLICHKEIT). It introduces us to Linda (Sandra Bourdonnec) and Jakob (Ludwig Reuter, or Ross Indecency as he prefers to be known), two young lovers living in the twilight hours of the Berlin suburbs.
They seem happy enough to begin with. But Jakob is becoming increasingly perturbed by nightmares in which Linda adopts a succubus-like disposition and attacks him. The plot thickens when she visits the grave of her grandmother, whose voice (provided by Jennifer Brigant in the version I saw, but due to be replaced by Justine Assaf in the completed version - though Brigant will still feature in a minor role ...) confirms that Linda is in fact doomed to fulfil a curse shared by all women who have lived before her and shared the Karnstein family name. Learning that she is destined to kill the one she loves, she flees – determined that her feelings for Jakob will overrule what the stars have mapped out for her.
Meanwhile, we meet Kurt (Suleyman Yuceer), a dishevelled young hitman who’s no longer in love with his job. We witness this as he chases his latest quarry, director Bakshaev, through an empty multi-storey car park … only to let him go once he’s caught up with him.
It soon transpires that Kurt and Jakob are best friends. So much so that Kurt will do practically anything for his pal. In a bizarre twist, Jakob takes advantage of this matter by asking Kurt to murder Linda. It seems the dreams are really starting to haunt him, and he’s beginning to believe Linda truly is a demon out to cause him harm …
Shot over the course of 16 days for just 3,000 Euros, the first thing that stands out about THE DEVIL OF KREUZBERG is its sheer ambition. Taking to foreign streets in the late/early hours to ensure an eerie sense of dislocation is maintained throughout is bold enough, but shooting entirely in German dialogue – used sparsely but to good effect – takes things several steps further, adding gravitas to the dreamlike ambience.
The story is surprisingly straightforward once it’s been established who the central characters are in relation to each other. But, even so, it acts as a mere backdrop to the rich visuals and borderline-surreal atmospherics on offer. Bakshaev couldn’t care less about commercial box-ticking, it would seem, opting instead to deliver something strikingly personal and oddly reminiscent of Jess Franco at his most stylish.
Performances are good across the board, the principal players looking to have been cast for their notable onscreen presences as much as anything else. Come the sublime, haunting cemetery-based denouement, it’s Bourdonnec who leaves the greatest impression. Her portrayal of a monster as in touch with pathos and elegance as she is resigned to her destiny draws comparison to Jean Rollin’s cinema in general, and in particular THE LIVING DEAD GIRL. Along the way, Reuter and Yuceer convince with their (slightly homoerotic) bond and even get to shake a few moves during an unexpected mid-section spot of disco dancing.
From the opening titles sequence with characters jiving to the lo-fi strains of Bonifrate, it’s clear that THE DEVIL OF KREUZBERG is going to be more than just a great title: it stands apart as something quite unique. It’s steeped in visual style, much of which references European cinema of old, while remembering to keep the plot ticking over and steamroll towards a suitably mist-laden, ethereal finale.
There is no gore. There is no nudity. I doubt Bakshaev would’ve been interesting in exploiting such avenues even if he’d had ten times the budget he worked with here. The thing is, he doesn’t need to. His film is inventive, witty (yes, there is humour), romantic on several levels, insightful in a very humanistic manner and – most of all – often breathtakingly beautiful. Oh, the aforementioned soundtrack (the bulk of which comes courtesy of the excellent Spettro Family) is stunning throughout too.
There is no legit release date for this intelligent, original film yet – but watch this space. Or, better still; check out the film’s Facebook page.
By Stuart Willis
| Directed by Alex Bakshaev |