Raab, Kurt

Escape From Sobibor

Based on the novel by Richard Raske, Escape From Sobibor tells the story of a partially successful mass escape from a WWII Nazi death camp.

Escape from Sobibor

The Thomas Mann Collection (Buddenbrooks / Doktor Faustus / The Magic Mountain)

Awarded the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1929, Thomas Mann was honored for a body of work that began with his first novel, Buddenbrooks, and whose other milestones included The Magic Mountain and Doktor Faustus . These three novels are brought to life in this outstanding 7-disc collection, which pays tribute to Mann's most celebrated and famous works.
Buddenbrooks As seen on PBS Great Performances . A stimulating adaptation of Mann's most famous novel and one of the most widely read German novels in the world, Buddenbrooks is the sweeping tale of the rise and fall of a wealthy merchant family torn between family loyalty and personal freedom.
Doktor Faustus Driven by a single-minded search for a totally new musical idiom, composer Adrian Leverkühn, makes a pact with the devil with a very high price: the total renunciation of love and the gradual deterioration of the mind and body.
The Magic Mountain Hans Castorp, son of a distinguished Hamburg family, spends seven years in a Swiss sanatorium. Drawn to the hermetic society, he receives an erotic and philosophical initiation but abruptly leaves at the launch of the Great War to learn true life experience and responsibility.

Fear of Fear

If not among the better-known films by the gifted German director Rainer Werner Fassbinder, Fear of Fear is nevertheless an absolutely characteristic work. A housewife, locked into a dull life with her distracted husband and two small children (plus nattering mother-in-law and sister-in-law living in the apartment upstairs) finds herself seized by uncontrollable anxiety. Although the wife has an affair with a doctor, there is little conventional melodrama; instead, Fassbinder strips away plot mechanics in favor of a complete identification with the woman's mysterious angst. The central role is tailor-made for one of RWF's favorite leading ladies, Margit Carstensen, whose regal cheekbones and elegant air belie the instability beneath the skin. Fassbinder's eye is exacting--the apartment is a dead-on purgatory of bourgeois nothingness--and his framing shows the influence of his Hollywood idol, Douglas Sirk. This is a small work in the bulging Fassbinder canon, but it's impeccably realized. --Robert Horton

The Stationmaster's Wife

The Stationmaster's Wife, a drama of post-WWI Bavaria based on Oskar Maria Graf's novel Bolweiser, was originally presented as a three-hour-plus event for German television. In preparing his theatrical cut, director Rainer Werner Fassbinder shaved away the subplots and supporting characters to focus tightly on the story of railway stationmaster Bolweiser (Kurt Raab) and his philandering wife Hanni (Elisabeth Trissenaar). Set in late-1920s Bavaria, Bolweiser is a Nazi party man surrounded by grotesque, toadying underlings at the station but is pathetically servile to his increasingly frustrated, unhappy wife. Disgusted by her weak-willed husband, she finds passion in the arms of the butcher. Bolweiser ignores the town gossip and even perjures himself to defend his wife in a trial--an act which later dooms him. Exquisitely photographed (by Michael Balhaus) and beautifully designed, Fassbinder's lush, romantic style suffuses his caustic portrait of the self-destructive Bolweiser (a painfully perfect performance by Raab), and the petty small-town citizens who seal his fate. Even as Bolweiser sinks to the depths of self-pity, Fassbinder's gorgeous, shimmering canvas makes the small-minded doings look so much more tawdry. --Sean Axmaker

The Merchant of Four Seasons

Rainer Werner Fassbinder had 12 features under his belt when he finally found success at home and earned international acclaim for The Merchant of Four Seasons. Hans Hirschmüller stars as Hans, who returns from a stint in the French Foreign Legion with high hopes and grand plans for the "economic miracle" of 1950s Germany. Fired from the police force for dallying with a hooker, he sets himself up as a street peddler selling fruits and vegetables from a pushcart, much to the horror of his bourgeois family and his socially conscious lover, who leaves him in disgust. Settling for a loveless marriage with a manipulative wife (Irm Hermann), Hans sinks into depression and ill health and finally falls silent as his new partner quietly usurps his place. It's a chilly but compelling portrait of a mercenary, often unfeeling family desperate to grab a piece of the economic boom, and Fassbinder invests it with a mix of street realism, melodrama, black comedy, and theatrical flourish. At the center is Hans, a prisoner of an unhappy life except for the moments he takes his cart to the streets and calls out his wares like a character in some working-class opera---until even that is denied him and he embarks on a special, utterly Fassbinderian escape. It's an unforgettable climax to one of Fassbinder's best films. Hanna Schygulla, Kurt Raab, and Ingrid Caven are among Fassbinder's familiar stock company of costars, and Fassbinder briefly appears in a small role. --Sean Axmaker

Fox and His Friends

The original German title, Faustrecht der Freiheit, which roughly translates as "Might Makes Right," describes rather bluntly the crux of this compelling drama, one of Rainer Werner Fassbinder's most acclaimed films. Fassbinder takes a rare starring role as Franz--"Fox" to his friends--a gay carny thrown out of work when the cops close a fairground sideshow. Introduced to a group of cultivated homosexuals by an antique and art dealer (Karlheinz Böhm of Peeping Tom fame), he becomes involved with high-class dandy Eugen (Peter Chatel), who finds the naive, uneducated innocent easy prey when he unexpectedly wins 500 thousand marks in the lottery. Eugen alternately flatters and humiliates Fox, ridiculing his working-class manners and tastes while sponging off his fast-disappearing fortune. The story is partially autobiographical, inspired by Fassbinder's own relationship with an illiterate butcher, but the director casts himself as the victim in the cinematic incarnation and turns his tormentor into a veritable vampire. Biographical considerations aside, it remains one of Fassbinder's most affecting, accomplished, and personal films, and he delivers a sweet, wounded performance as the proletariat Fox in a den of cultured, upper-class hounds. His evocation of the affluent gay community is catty and brittle, but ultimately this powerful drama is less about sexual orientation than class, power, and sexual control. --Sean Axmaker

Why Does Herr R. Run Amok?

Rainer Werner Fassbinder turned to color for his fourth film, a bleak portrait of middle-class banality. Kurt Raab, the plump, baby-faced art director usually cast as the director's most pathetic characters, stars as Herr R., a seemingly successful middle-class professional and happily married family man who stumbles through life like a grinning zombie. As one might guess from the title, Herr R. (an appropriately vague, undistinguished character that Fassbinder leaves unnamed to better stand in for a German everyman) is about to go over the edge, and the film shows us why in relentless, numbing detail. At work he's an insignificant figure of ridicule; at home he escapes into endless hours of TV when not killing time with empty small talk (largely improvised by the cast), and he soon slips into a listless depression compounded by constant headaches. Fassbinder and codirector Michael Fengler don't make the experience easy for us. The film is as purposely banal as the chatty droning of the soundtrack, shot in a hypernaturalistic approach with a palette of muddy, dull colors that give the picture the quality of a faded Polaroid. There's a genius to the gesture, and the film marches inexorably to a harrowing climax, but it's not for all tastes. Even Fassbinder fans admit that this is a tough film to get through. --Sean Axmaker

Escape From Sobibor

ESCAPE FROM SOBIBOR (DVD MOVIE)

Gods of the Plague

The short-lived skyrocket named Rainer Werner Fassbinder began his prolific directing career with a burst of rule-breaking movies in 1969-70. Gods of the Plague, from that early eruption, is a kind of homage-deconstruction of the American crime movie, in the same vein as RWF's Love Is Colder Than Death and The American Soldier. An ex-con (zonked-out Harry Baer in an ankle-length leather jacket) wanders through grungy Munich, on an eventual collision course with a botched supermarket robbery. The film has virtually no narrative momentum, and carries the cheeky attitude of experimental theater--the movie stops cold as the hero listens to a German nonsense song in its entirety. Yet from the first five minutes you can sense the eye of a great filmmaker behind the exquisitely poised camera (clearly influenced in this one by the anything-goes spirit of early Godard). Fassbinder regulars Hanna Schygulla and Gunther Kaufmann are especially good here. --Robert Horton