Despite te craftmanship of Fassbinder this feels more like Village People the movie. How can a gay director produce such a cliche movie about homosexuals? O course, as in almost all of Fassbinder's work, colours and camera are outstanding. But this cannot save this movie from being ridiculous.
Faut s'accrocher à la branche, qd même et ça envoie du bois, comme on dit dans le jargon des backrooms. Esthétique carton/pato/gay (et pas gaz) superbe, réal très bonne comme d'hab, image aussi. Après, il faut avoir envie de se fader près de 2h d'enfilades frustrées sous fond d'échanges (aussi) d'opium, de vengeances fratricides en rade de Brest.
Fassbinder's last work only proves that he wasn't really in tune with Genet's vision to adapt one of his stories, since this is only a convoluted, aimless mess packed with ridiculous, pseudo-poetic dialogue and unable to make you feel any connection with its characters. http://www.filmotrope.com
RWF's hilarious, anachronistic, operatic, lurid, technicolour, phallus-filled, sound stage adaptation - more like amplification - of Genet's Querelle. Watched it mid-way through reading the book, which resulted in more insight than a person might want into the workings of Fassbinder's brain. Dedicated to his own beautiful knife-wielder, El Hedi ben Salem. 3.5
Almost unfathomable for me to wrap my head around this from one viewing. A transgressive adaptation which rather skilfully constructs a queer fever dream, playfully depicting even the homophobic as symbols of homoerotic repression. Remarkable aesthetics and sets, only bogged down by the density of RWF's eliciting of the literary in what should remain cinematic. That and a lack of clarity in plot and characters.
Eclectic and plethoric but definitely a worth-see. What I loved in this film is its idiosyncratic cartoon-like and quasi theatrical aesthetics: the plot often oscillates from drama to narration to text to photography. Queer/gay/cabaret aesthetics are also very distinctive but play a second-fiddle role here IMO.
"Querelle had entered into a kind of unspoken pact with the Devil. He had not written over either his body or his soul, but rather something which is just as valuable: a friend. And the death of this friend would sanctify his crime. It is our task to express the universal quality of a specific phenomenon. We are no longer concerned with a work of art – for a work of art is free."