That Europe is nothin' on earth but a great big auction, that's all it is, that bunch of old worn-out places, it's just a big fire-sale, the whole rotten thing.
—Tennessee Williams
We must laugh at this disgrace, not over this disgrace which would be detachment, but rather by amicably deepening the discussion of central issues such as sabotage as a function of self-valorisation. Every act of sabotage is happiness and the risk it implies fills us with feverish emotion, like waiting for a lover.
—Toni Negri, Capitalist Domination and Working Class Sabotage
Of all the prizes Toni Erdmann
has been awarded so far, the LUX Prize, given out by the European
Parliament to those “films that go to the heart of European public
debate” is the most fitting and paradoxical at the same time. Fitting
because Maren Ade's film is the film that has finally captured
the existential crisis of a continent that welcomes the free flow of
capital but not that of its casualties. Paradoxical because the European
Parliament, an extra-democratic institution with no effective powers,
is symbolically responsible for having turned Europe from a union of
welfare states, to an expendable offshoot of the global financial
market. The choreography of the film is in fact the plastic outcome of
a business plan gone astray, a business plan some still refer to as the
European Union. Purged from the iconographic stereotypes only Woody Allen can be excused to still associate Europe with, Toni Erdmann
represents the first pertinent formulation of what a truly European
cinema could look and feel like. A cinema that doesn't hide in the
festival circuit and its self-referential irrelevance, but that looks in
the eyes the ongoing catastrophe of a continent squeezed between
neoliberal radicalization and a resurgent fascism. Gone are the annoying
French couples running through museums (mere by-products of the
Marshall Plan), defunct are the impotent lovers of an Italy that never
was, and in their wake a featureless corporate Europe has emerged: the
culmination of the consumer holocaust Pasolini had foretold. A continent
increasingly divided between aseptic ghettos of privilege where the
past has been mummified so that tourists can consume it, and rancorous
suburbs of blind rage. An inhuman landscape where high-living is a
window away from the slums and the Wild East has “the biggest mall in
Europe” but “none with enough money to buy anything.” A finally
Americanised Europe meritocratically divided between winners and losers.
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