There is an epiphany to the final scene, that is like a wolf pack at once the far better for the sheepdog. I am part sheepdog. I know how to think like a wolf. The title alone captured me, because it is a paradox. Tenderness of the wolves. Sarkazein. I am now starting a Frau Lindner fan club. Her door is the best mistake you can ever make, as a kid. Or is it. A young adult. A middle aged man. Thirty. Forty. Five
"Art horror wasn't normally like this in the 1970s. Made way before serial killer movies embraced grotesque morbidity as entertainment..., Lommel and Raab's movie was indeed a shocking, ice cold slice of morbid pie with a chaser of sick sex. It's a quality production but with raw content technically seen only in porn films. The blood isn't exaggerated but the seductions are." - Glenn Erickson, DVDTalk
A bizarre treatise on death as sustenance, this film adaptation, based on the story of a vampiric child killer in pre-Nazi Germany, is shock therapy that dulls the senses after the umpteenth victim is slain. Fritz Lang's M probed the subject divinely, while this film doesn't really have a strong point of view. The film is set after WWII, even though the epilogue says the killer was executed in 1925.
I gave it two stars because it's not my cup of tea. It sucked to be an actor in Germany during the 70's. If you worked for Fassbinder, you couldn't work for the other directors. Each had their own stable of actors. Fassbinder was certainly the most prolific, and this is certainly one of his most notorious films, which is why he gave credit to Ulli. continued.
Even if Fassbinder is only the producer here, it tends to look like one of his films with his usual actors...Kurt Raab is perfect in this nasty and disgusting role (based on the real story of a German serial killer Friz Harmann). Not for everyone but an intense and lugubruous drama.
Uli Lommel directs an eerily detached film about the German serial Killer Fritz Haarmann, who has provided the inspiration for a number of films, from M to THE CHANGELING. Kurt Raab is freakishly good in the lead role, a mixture of menace, smarm and off-putting moralism. The whole film is art-directed to hell and benefits from the presence of most of Fassbinder's inner circle.
A family affair from one of Fassbinder's usual players, in a film made with many of Fassbinder actors, including himself, with a similar language: the dryness of a representation that is colder than death, more raw than logic and, above all, more inconceivable than any naturalism could allow. An ironic representation of cruelty, where Bach, like in Bresson, purifies one vision of a private hell.