Brandi Besalke

 

Rentschler, Eric. “How American Is It: The U.S. as Image and Imaginary in

German Film.” The German Quarterly. Vol. 57, No. 4. (Autumn, 1984), pp. 603-620

 

In German literature (and cinema), America is represented in 3 distinct fashions (or “theses” in Rentscler’s terms).  The first places America exclusively in the role of the cultural imperialist-conqueror: “increasingly ugly, ambassadors of materialism, diminishers of aura, bringers of potential doom” (605).  The second thesis is somewhat kinder, depicting a love-hate relationship between the German filmmaker and the home of Hollywood culture. On the one hand, the American film culture provided the post-war generation with “an ersatz homeland” during reconstruction.  On the other hand, this generation of German filmmakers, having grown up during the 50’s, find the entire film process ruled by the Hollywood-ran industry – “a hegemony over production, distribution, and exhibition which has circumscribed the making and partaking of images throughout the world” (605).  The German feels even more compelled to follow Hollywood’s rules in film creation due to the legacy of the exiled German directors (Lang, Wilder, Pabst, Murnau and Lubitsch) who helped to shape America cinema. In the third thesis America serves as a memory suppressant – post-war Germans adopted American culture for themselves as a way to cover up the emptiness remaining from a forced amnesia, as they sought to forget the last two decades. According to Rentschler, these portrayals of America are “found in most popular accounts” of German film, but there is actually a fourth vision of America, in which America helps facilitate vision: “it functions as a playground for the imagination, as a mirror that reflects and intensifies the preoccupations and imported conflicts of its visitors” (606). America here, while foreign, is not exotic; it serves as a place of self-discovery: “a site where the subject comes to understand itself through a constant play and identification with reflections of itself as

an other” (607).

 

Rentschler looks at this idea first in Luis Trenker’s Der Verlorene Sohn (1934) and Werner Herzog’s Stroszek (1977) before moving on to Wender’s film. Philip Winter’s is disjointed in America; his snapshots are reflected in the disconnected potrayal of America in the film both in cut and soundtrack. America provides many images, but no one picture summing up his experience: “they do not show things as they are”. By observing, Philip wants to understand the world, but his gaze is “disinterested” and therefore doesn’t lead to any sort of insight (612). It is only after returning to Europe with Alice that a cohesive story develops and he can finish his article. America, Rentschler continues, is simply a “way station for travelers whose manifest destiny lies elsewhere”. The travelers learn in America and are able to orient themselves in their own history, which is located back home in Europe. They learn in America simply because that Other place acts like a mirror, a “site of projection […] where unsure individuals see themselves in sharper focus”.  While looking at the Other and through the Other, the viewers in turn view themselves, just as Philip looks at the Polaroid Alice takes of him, in which her image is also reflected.

 

 

Light, Andrew. “Wim Wenders and the Everyday Aesthetics of Technology and

Space.” The Journal of Aesthetics and Criticism, Vol. 55, No. 2, Perspectives on the Arts and Technology. (Spring, 1997), pp. 215-229

 

Light’s article applied theories by Andrew Feenberg and Albert Borgmann to Alice in den Städten. Light first discusses Feenberg’s subversive rationalization, a theory which states that “new technology can also be used to undermine the existing social hierarchy or to force it to meet needs it has ignored” (Feenberg).  Light illustrates this with an example of Frances Minitel videotext system. It was developed by the government, and used, for example, by them for ordering train schedules and tickets. Users, however, found new unintended uses for this system, such as arranging sexual liaisons or organizing protests against the government (215).   Light then overviews Borgmann’s ideas of built space: there are thick spaces and thin spaces. Thick spaces are made up of “focal things”, which are objects that exist in a context, require skill or attention (a stove, for instance) and through which we are able to deepen our identity and “enrich our engagement with others” (216). Thin spaces are made up of “devices”, which do not demand attention from us (a central heating plant) and consequently diminishes our identity.

 

Philip’s Polaroids are unable to reproduce whatever Philip thought he was photographing.  His friend says that the photos serve exclusively to prove to Philip that he exists – he is attempting to find identity. Philip’s problem is that he is in a banal built space – and thin spaces produce thin identities and a thin self “incapable of meaningful human contact” (221).  On his immediate return to the Old World, Europe is portrayed just as thinly as America; Philip requires a “new lens” to look through, which is incorporated in Alice: “The embodiment of the new lens in another person seems appropriate, as it represents a shift from one of the newest forms of representation, the Polaroid camera, to perhaps the oldest – the descriptions we get of things through the eyes of other people” (221).

 

Philip undertakes a second road trip with Alice, and this second trip is different because instead of vaguely searching for identity, Philip and Alice are searching for a thing with context – Grandma’s house.  This is reinforced with other details, such as the music Philip hears. In America he listed to pre-recorded radio – a device; here he listens to a live Chuck Berry concert – though a product of America, here it is embedded in the context of the location – which is a focused thing. This second trip and search is therefore located in thick space and is meaningful. Alice, in her child-like viewing of things, enables Philip to see differently. Ultimately he resumes his identity as a writer – “this restoration was not accomplished by a simple move from thin to thick spaces: it was an act of subversion of thin spaces and device relationships.

 

Questions:

Does the American landscape help Philip “see himself”, or does it only further weaken his identity? Would he have experienced the same inability to photograph what he sees in another foreign location? Does Alice serve as a prosthetic eye through which Philip is able to gain focus and if so how?

 

 

For this article, I also used the following article, since Light didnÂ’t really explain subversive rationalization:

 

Feenberg, Andrew. “Escaping the Iron Cage, or, Subversive Rationalization and Democratic Theory. URL: http://www.sfu.ca/~andrewf/schom1.htm

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