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Der Tod der Maria Malibran

Werner Schroeter West Germany, 1972

Matthew Martens's rating of the film The Death of Maria Malibran

Overripe, over-rich, and overwrought; and yet, and yet, and yet. I want to call this beautiful mutation an avant-kitsch extravaganza, but I regret the laziness of the appellation. At times, as so often with Schroeter, the film feels like an extended, ungainly music video in which the synching wanders in and out of true, enacting and inciting the delirium of desire always just under the surface of opera and artifice.