#tulpendiebe

L'opéra-mouffe (Agnès Varda, 1958)Holy Motors (Leos Carax, 2012) pic.twitter.com/IYJgQKnV3a

Anyway, the movie. I don’t know what I expected, honestly. Something ponderous and silent, German expressionism or whatever. It started with the logo I’d already sort of seen in our apartment, holding the film up to the kitchen lights. Then, a pair of huge eyes: a close-up of a little girl, staring straight into the camera. Her father, who we don’t see, Peanuts-style, is reading her a bedtime story. The cover of the book he’s reading from supplies the title credit: Tulpendiebe.

None of Kino’s German work survived. No screenplays, no work prints, no set design sketches, nothing. All we have are contemporary sources – newspaper notices, advertising, press releases, and reviews – to give us an idea of what his movies were like. Even from the scant evidence, it is clear that your grandfather was a polarizing figure. The reviews of his early films, especially Tulpendiebe, were either terrible or over-the-moon raves. Later, this changed.