The Dancing Chicken: A Movie Review of Herzog's Stroszek

(Redundant preamble: Although spoilers abound, this is one of those rare movies where it makes almost no difference if you know what happens in it or not. It needs to be seen and experienced. And my spoilers will hopefully not spoil the movie, but have the opposite effect of enticing you to watch it! If you want to get to the dancing chicken first, please disregard all the scribbles and look it up on YouTube. I will not be offended because it is the chicken that really counts here and is the meat of the matter!)

In the past, I had always been somewhat weary when approaching the films of Werner Herzog. His generally acclaimed movies are good but nothing seriously outstanding. It was the documentary Grizzly Man that first raised my eyebrows and the director's standing with me, but it was really Woyzeck (1979) that blew me away.

Now the similar-sounding title of Stroszek (1977) – our intents and purposes here - is intentional. Herzog who had previously worked with Bruno S. in the Enigma of Kaspar Hauser (1974) had initially wanted him to play Woyzeck as well. Yet since it did not work out since Herzog backed out of his promise, that particular role was given to Klaus Kinski instead (a wise choice indeed). So to compensate for it, Herzog decided to make another movie and wrote the script for Stroszek in merely four days.

There are two characteristics that are part and parcel of almost any Herzog movie. Apart from a stark realism that permeates pretty much all of his films, he is most interested in extreme characters who find themselves in even more extreme situations. Whether it is Fitzcarraldo lifting a ship up a mountain in Peru or the “Grizzly Man” Timothy Treadwell living with grizzlies in the backlands of Alaska and suffering a gruesome death for it, it is the extraordinary that attracts the German director.

Bruno S. was one such person. An abandoned and abused child of a prostitute, this man who was generally deemed insane (but not by Herzog nor his standards) has gone through hell and then some. In fact, the first half of the movie set in Germany mirrors facts and events from Bruno's personal life.

His acting is fully natural because he is basically reenacting parts of his own life. In that sense, it has the feel of a documentary and to add to this, Herzog not only gave all the characters the same given names as their respective actors, but he even chose seasoned criminals to play the criminals who harass poor Bruno.

The first half of the movie is brilliant film-making indeed. It takes Herzog merely minutes to create sympathy for the main characters, mostly Bruno of course but also the accompanying prostitute Eva and the old man Scheitz. Something that James L. Brooks does not achieve in its entirety when it comes to the highly overrated Terms of Endearment (1983), for example.

We see this interesting and odd trio's daily life and their desires and dreams for escape. The generous and kind old man has little to look forward to except a possible trip to the US to visit his American nephew. Bruno has just been released from prison and a caring but stern prison ward gave him a long lecture on the vicissitudes of alcohol. Stay away from bars and if you find yourself there only buy coffee, Bruno is told. It is the drink that has brought him there, and the prison guard wishes him well and does not wish to ever see him on those prison grounds again.

So when Bruno leaves the prison with nobody waiting for him where does he go first? Straight to the adjacent bar to order a beer. When Eva asks him where he has been all this time, he responds with his deadpan yet naive face that he has been “on vacation.”

To protect Eva from her pimps, Bruno puts himself selflessly in danger. He makes money by playing his accordion and singing songs in back alleys. After a humiliating visit by the criminals who make fun of him and threaten him, Bruno finds some comfort with a doctor friend who cannot give him advice per se but who shows him premature babies gripping onto his fingers or, more symbolically, the desperate grip on life by the underprivileged. Life must go on even if one does not get a head start.

Enough is enough, so this unlikely trio Bruno, Eva, and the old man Scheitz decide to leave for the new continent that promises riches and happiness, in short, the elusive quest for the often sought-after American Dream. So far I was very moved by the characters as each of them (minus the criminals of course) were compassionate and complex beings.

Yet when they end up in the States, not only does the landscape change but so do the people. The Americans are portrayed as simple farm folk, as kind but mainly driven by sex and lust for money. Most of the second half deals with having and not having money, including a banker who means well but ends up taking or repossessing all of their possessions. For me, the movie lost some of its emotional drive because very little happens thereafter.

Since the trio finds it hard to adapt to the new lifestyle, they are driven into deep and irretrievable debt. So much so that Eva, the only one of the three who speaks English, picks up prostitution again and leaves with a couple of shady truckers further up north to Vancouver. The old man becomes increasingly paranoid of all Americans and both he and Bruno decide to rob money at gunpoint so that they can get by and be able to buy daily necessities.

When they are about to make those purchases, the old man gets arrested so we have Bruno left with a shotgun and a frozen turkey under his arm. The truck breaks down (after circling inexplicably around the shotgun and turkey, don't ask) in a no-good town (sorry Cherokee, North Carolina). And it all culminates and ends with a rabbit riding a fire truck, a chicken playing the piano, and, most importantly, the dancing chicken.

Ah, the dancing chicken! Now apparently Herzog's crew was unanimously and unequivocally offended by it, and they did not want to have any part of it. Hence they abstained and Herzog had to shoot the scene himself, which he, by the way, considers some of his most poignant film-making. Even he is not entirely sure what the dancing chicken stands for, but he claims it could be seen as a metaphor for life that somebody somewhere is putting in coins, and we all dance to those tunes just like that chicken.

It is silly, surreal, poignant, and unforgettable all in one! What better way to finish up a year and start a brand-new one than with a dancing chicken. Hope you enjoyed this bit, dear reader, and all the best for the holidays and a Happy New Year to you!

The Human Face of Addiction

Last week, I had the opportunity to witness a panel discussion on the issue of addiction at St. Paul's Hospital. I was somewhat interested in the topic of addiction, but mainly went because it included heavyweights in the field, particularly Alfried Längle whom I had seen previously expound on logotherapy and whom I personally consider the "Dalai Lama of psychotherapy" as well as Gabor Maté who is a bestselling author and the equivalent of a medical superstar. 

Some of Maté's articles I had read online, and I had been impressed by his humanity as well as gutsiness. Finally, there was also Bruce Alexander whom I had not heard of but who proved also quite knowledgeable and who showed serious concern for the environment in both senses of the word, physical surroundings as well as nature.

And so the discussion commenced ten minutes later than planned in front of a filled auditorium with constant heavy rain outside. Längle opened up the panel with his definition of addiction, and I was already baffled. 

He started off showing us that addiction is indeed a very human activity. To be addicted means to be human, to have desires, and to look for their fulfillment. Everyone is addicted to something to some extent. There is essentially nothing wrong with it except when it is done specifically to fill a certain void or used as an escape that eventually causes more harm than good. Immediately, we could feel the warmth and humanity of his view and his focus on existential matters.

Then Maté picked up where Längle had left off yet with a caveat. He mainly agreed with Längle's definition, and he pointed out that most of us are addicted to something or some kinds of repetitive and addictive behavior for different reasons, namely to get a sense of calm, relief, assurance, or what-have-you. 

Yet the issue is whether we do it to escape alienation. In modern times, we have more than ever cases of addiction, but historically there were phases where and when addiction was not a major issue or not much of a problem. It was Bruce Alexander who would elaborate more on this phenomenon and the external influences on addiction.

In the meantime, the main disagreement of Maté was that addiction was according to the actual meaning of the word, a type of slavery. People become enslaved to something and find it very hard to control. They become automatons, thoughtless machines that only exist to gratify those needs and pleasures. 

Maté read a quote from Victor Frankl's book, Längle's teacher and mentor on how there is the stimulus and a response and that the gap in-between is what is called free will, reason, or an operating agent/ego. Although most of us most of the time do respond to situations via reflection, in the case of addicts that response is immediate (he snapped his fingers at this point) and does not include any type of will or decision on the part of the subject.

This observation was the main source of conflict or rather disagreement between Längle and Maté. Längle insisted that we still do have an albeit at times feeble voice of reason between the stimulus and the response among addicts. The idea or goal of therapy would be to give empowerment and strength to that voice so that the afflicted addict can gradually break the habit and manage to break free from those shackles.

In fact, in most cases people do not become addicted right away, but it builds up perhaps with a drink or two leading to increased amounts over time. At all times, there is a decision, a voice saying yes (or no) to certain actions; rarely is there an automatic reaction from the onset. It is more a case of losing control than a complete loss of control.

There were some interesting observations about genetic as well as environmental factors that were brought up as well. Certainly, some have genetic predispositions, but most of the addicts have had some kind of trauma in their past leading them towards addictive behaviors. In Längle's words, this was trauma that has not been integrated creating the need for escape by various means. Maté pointed out that most of the addicts had experienced sexual abuse.

But one of the main conflicts of the night was whether addicts do have a still operating will or decision-making process. The danger or the downside of such a view was according to Maté that people could accuse the addict of somehow or other being responsible for their addiction. 

That is when the white-haired Austrian Längle with the calm, measured, and soothing voice surprised me. Längle said if people were to construe his words in this manner, he would drop his perspective and theory altogether. To blame the addicts for their plight was definitely not his intended meaning; in fact, he meant the exact opposite. Here we see his humanitarian concern over simply being right and that he was even ready to sacrifice his own views for the benefit of others.

At that point, it seemed that the outspoken Maté had won the debate. But Längle would still not leave without a fight. Maté had challenged him to give a definition of free will. Längle gave the fact that despite constraints and strong forces from both within and without, there was a singular and personal voice regarding that situation. 

And yet, there were people who did not want to leave their addiction and that was fine. He had one particular patient who would see him on a regular basis saying that he did not want to drop his addiction.

Maté asked him why was that man going to see a psychotherapist in the first place. To that Längle responded that it was because that person enjoyed the human contact, the fact that he could reach out to another person, a human being who did not immediately judge or scold him for his actions.

Längle also said that if people followed their addictive behavior with mindfulness, then it was not as bad. For example, if a smoker enjoys their cigarettes, this is all right. It should not become a mere and thoughtless habit. People should be and become aware of their actions, and only if they sincerely and genuinely wish to quit their addiction, should they do so.

Then Maté argued what about people with obsessive-compulsive behavior. They would rather not choose to wash their hands a hundred times before leaving the building. Längle responded by saying that unhealthy habits would manifest themselves in different ways in different people. 

Since the person feels isolation and a certain perceived lack of power in situations, they would either seek an escape through addiction or their body would respond with different defense mechanisms to stressors, such as diseases like cancer or mental health issues like depression or at its worst even suicide.

In fact, the word dis-ease shows that the body and/or mind are not at ease, not balanced and that it is in many cases simply a natural response of the body. Such undigested traumas would also lead towards aggressive and dangerous behaviors both towards others as well as oneself. 

At one point, psychotherapist Längle was, in fact, counseling Maté, and it was then that Maté shifted his position and conceded that there was a miniscule moment or gap between the stimulus and the response. So Längle eventually won the debate and claimed that he did not know that Maté was an existentialist to which Maté shrugged and said "whatever that means."

Now I have left out an important voice here, the thoughts and ideas of Bruce Alexander. Although he was not as forceful in his opinions or in this discussion, he had indeed important and significant views on addiction and moreover our modern and alienated life-styles. 

At one point, Alexander said he was not going to blame all the pain and isolation on capitalism (to which Längle retorted, why not, which drew an impromptu applause from the audience). Yet it is capitalism that often creates gaps between people and has more often than not harmful effects on social and personal relationships.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in the case of native people. Historically, they did not have problems or issues with addiction, but in modern times they have been feeling isolated from both their culture as well as the rest of society. 

Also turning people into money-making economic units causes conflicts in the fabric of relationships. As Maté claimed in places like Turkey, people did not merely go to stores to buy things and return home; instead they were often offered tea or coffee in the neighborhood stores.

In fact, neighborhood stores, which are a source of meeting and greeting people within the community have become more a thing of the past due to big impersonal superstores like Wal-Mart. We have lost touch with personalized service and instead are dealing with mass-produced commercial items for mass consumers like us. 

Maté also noted with regret that Fisher-Price was selling car seats for one-year-olds that came integrated with an iPad holder. People are becoming and have become enslaved to technology at the expense of relationships with nature and with real people.

On the issue of nature, Bruce Alexander had more to say. We exploit nature, but it is us who have become impoverished as a result. We have lost touch with our core and principal values and live in a materialistic world filled with voids. We have become globalized and are dealing with significant amounts of anxiety and depression. 

All of this has not made our life more convenient or happy, but quite to the contrary. It comes as no surprise that substance abuse has increased in addition to health issues, both physical as well as mental.

Life is filled with pain, and we have to find our way through it without getting too bruised and damaged by it. This may sound rather pessimistic, but the hope is that we can manage to have healthier lives if we face ourselves and the issues that confront us head-on. Even when situations seem hopeless and there is no way out, there is a small ray of hope that can get us out of the prison we have essentially created (for) ourselves.

In some cases, psychotherapy can help us, but generally, it is both about accepting oneself in one's precious and invaluable uniqueness and accepting and caring about others around us. Once we realize that it was merely our own faulty perception or illusion that we have a void within us and that, in fact, we have and always had what we needed most at our own hands and disposal, then issues like addiction or diseases may become easier to control and deal with.

Fate and Destiny in Danny Boyle's Slumdog Millionaire

The movie Slumdog Millionaire (2008) directed by British director Danny Boyle has achieved that rare feat of satisfying film critics and audiences alike. It is one of the best works of this very talented director. However, upon my first viewing, I was not as enthusiastic about the film. I had been somewhat impressed with it in terms of editing and its magnificent energy boosted by a great soundtrack, but I had erroneously dismissed it as another successful crowd-pleaser. I had brushed it off as light entertainment and did not fully understand the critical hype around this film, which included winning an outstanding eight Oscars (incidentally more than one of my all-time favorite films, the brilliant classic Lawrence of Arabia made by David Lean in 1962).

So what made me change my mind about Slumdog Millionaire? I think although the movie does well on a number of levels and layers, I had not fully appreciated the intricacy of its script, that is, its philosophical premise and weight. It had struck me as a fairy tale albeit interspersed with moments of unflinching but restrained brutality involving torture and other traumatic experiences. To my defense, this movie is such a genre bender -- drama, action, romance, you name it -- and has a lot of glitz and dazzle so that one can miss out on how intricate the philosophical message is.

First off, this movie is rare in the sense that it is spoiler-proof. I cannot really give away anything here. While the ending may be predictable, it is still poignant; in fact, I was even more moved the second time around than when I first saw this gem.

Basically the main premise is this: A young man Jamal who has suffered a great deal in life enters the Indian version of the “Who wants to be a millionaire” contest and somehow despite his lack of education knows all the correct answers. This arouses suspicion among the authorities, and the young man is accused of cheating.

But the key to his success lies in his past. It seems that all his life has oddly enough only served this main purpose, namely to prepare him for the show that would turn him into a millionaire. Boyle has made other movies that involved suddenly and surprisingly attaining loads of cash in both Shallow Grave (1994) and the surprisingly heartwarming, moving and funny Millions (2004), but in the case of Slumdog Millionaire the money is used as an excuse or mere pretext; it serves as the young man's desperate but determined plan and means of getting the girl of his dreams Latika.

Jamal's life story is told in flashbacks and in direct relation to the posed questions on the popular game show (the novel this movie is based on is entitled Q and A and makes this link somewhat clearer). For example, Jamal knows the name of an Indian movie star because he fought hard to get his autograph. Jamal's mean-spirited brother locked him inside an outhouse, but the resourceful boy manages to escape underneath and shows up all covered in feces (I read on IMDb it was actually peanut butter mixed with chocolate). So he eventually asks for the long-awaited and much desired autograph. From the beginning of his life, we can see he is determined and obstinate in getting what he wants.

More interestingly, he knows which US president is portrayed on the 100 dollar bill because of his own heartfelt and sincere generosity. Jamal gives money to a blind boy who tells him that it is Ben Franklin's face that can be found on the bill. Had Jamal not decided to give him the money, he would never have known the answer to that question. So in a way, it is pure karma that is preserved then and passed on. Our ethical and generous actions may not be immediately rewarded, but they will be in due time and course.

Although a lot of the answers to the questions bring up painful memories, including his mother's senseless and brutal slaughter during a religious riot, it seems that everything was predetermined, in other words, fate. I love the idea that everything that happens to us, no matter how good or bad serves a distinct and distinctive purpose. We may not see and understand it in the heat or burning suffering of the moment, but it seems part of a larger plan of the cosmos, the eventual fulfillment of the Logos.

It is this realization that made me embrace this film with my whole heart. It so happens that when two people find each other, in this case our star-crossed lovers Jamal and Latika, it was all meant to happen and every detail in the movie and in life in general may be nothing but a footnote towards this one moment of bliss. So it happens in romance when people meet their soul-mates sometimes seemingly against all odds.

But the overall outlook is not a mere waiting for good things to fall into your lap, but to always make it happen. There were many times where Jamal could have merely given up or taken the easy way out. But he did not. Even at the very last where he is unfairly tortured, he keeps holding onto his dreams, his driving force of hope.

And it seems that all this time, even if it seemed otherwise at certain desolate moments, fortune, or call it luck or destiny had always been smiling and winking at him. Hence the final embrace and yes even the dance number give us a warm tingling feeling that deep down regardless of its rough and tough surface everything is all right and immensely beautiful and simply divine.