Happy New Year and an Explanation

Let’s start by wishing a good 2012 unto everyone who reads this. Mayan Apocalypse or not, let’s make this year better than all the ones before it.

The last post dates from Mid-November and I didn’t even post a list of my favourite 2011 films – what was going on? I got struck with a very ironic injury for a reader and writer like me: I scratched my cornea. This meant I had to sit at home with my eyes closed for three days and wasn’t allowed to read for several weeks. I’m starting work again tomorrow, so I’m starting again with the reading and writing today. At least I did get some thinking done in my off-time, so expect new posts (and, of course, that list) very soon.

Converting Hand-drawn 2D Animation to 3D is a Bad Idea

There is exactly one shot in the 3D special edition release of Disney’s The Lion King that looks absolutely amazeballs in 3D. Scar has just left Simba sitting alone on a rock in the gorge. The young lion is unaware that, on a plateau above the gorge, a grazing herd of wildebeests is about to be unleashed by the three hyenas. The filmmakers connect these two images in one crane-up, from a top shot of the rock and tree, where Simba is sitting, up the walls of the gorge, into a wide shot of the plateau (you can see the shot I mean here). In 3D, the sense of scale and menace that is built up in this reveal, is fifty times more effective and gave me hope for the future of the technology. Everything else, though, looked wrong.

The Lion King is one of the formative films of my childhood. I saw it twice at the theatre when I was twelve and when we got the VHS, I recorded the sound track onto an audio cassette and then transcribed all of the dialogue into a sort of script. I learned a lot of English this way (I was living in Holland at the time so the film was English with Dutch subtitles) and it led to me knowing the complete dialogue of the film by heart – I still sometimes annoy amuse friends by reciting scenes when I’m drunk, but that’s beside the point.

The film also represents the pinnacle of what could be achieved with hand drawn 2D animation one year before Toy Story knocked over the whole industry. In Disney Animation’s Silver Age that started in 1986 with The Little Mermaid, The Lion King was the crowning jewel. By returning to one of the studio’s greatest strengths, anthropomorphic animals, in an original story, it surpassed – in my opinion and certainly in box office figures – even the achievements of Beauty and the Beast. The universal quality and appeal of The Lion King was never equalled again. Pocahontas, The Hunchback of Notre Dame or Mulan simply can’t live up to it (not even Treasure Planet, which I am personally quite fond of). The Lion King is the best of both worlds. It uses the CAPS coloring system, it has some scenes which were supported by Pixar computations (e.g. the above-mentioned stampede scene) and CG-effects, but at its core it relies on a compelling story and strong characters animated by hand.


“Look, Simba, everything that the light touches is our kingdom.”

In 3D, thank goodness, The Lion King loses none of its grandeur. I was blown away by the sheer amazement of seeing this beloved film again on a big screen and by the fact that it still holds up (except for the hereditary power/destiny principles it perpetuates by which my leftist dispositions were slightly irked). Some of the savannah vistas also gain some impressive depth that widens the general scope of the film.

But, man, did the actual animation look crummy when it was 3D-ized. The inklines became blurry and jumpy, facial features that are slightly abstracted in the artwork – like whiskers – seemed to stick out all over the place. The actual animation suddenly became visible in a way that I just didn’t want to see. I wanted to immerse myself in the narrative, not notice every little trick animators use to draw their subjects.

I was willing to let The Lion King change my prejudices, but now my personal verdict is clear: Converting hand-drawn animation to 3D, regardless of how much computers were used in their original background composition etc., is a bad idea from an artistic point of view. So I am wary of Disney’s plans to convert more films to 3D. Although I might give Finding Nemo a shot. It’s not hand-drawn, after all.

In eigener Sache: Webfish

Auch wenn meine Zeit als Internetredakteur beim Deutschen Evangelischen Kirchentag vorbei ist (inzwischen betreue ich die Seite nur noch ehrenamtlich), freue ich mich immer wieder, dass meine Arbeit dort weitere Tätigkeiten nach sich ziehen wird.

Zum Beispiel wurde ich für das kommende Jahr in die Jury des EKD-Internetpreises “Webfish” eingeladen. Ich saß bisher noch nie in einer Jury, also freue ich mich ganz besonders darauf, dort “die besten christlichen Internetangebote in deutscher oder englischer Sprache” mitzuprämieren.

Noch bis 31. Dezember können sich Internetangebote für den Webfish bewerben. Alles Weitere steht auf den Seiten der EKD.

Something Big is about to Happen: Zeitgeist and Imminent Threat in July, Von Trier and Cahill


“Another Earth”

It is never easy to analyse the time you live in at the moment. It’s much easier to look back in time to see cultural and societal threads developing and culminating. But sometimes that elusive contemporary sensibility that German thinkers once named the “zeitgeist” can be felt, especially in the cultural artifacts a society produces. The current zeitgeist seems to be that while technological progress is moving ever faster, cultural progress has come to a standstill, which in turn creates high expectations for the times to come. This is not my idea, of course. It has been written and talked about a lot recently. Someone who summarised it, about two months ago, in a way I could relate to a lot, was “Generation X” author Douglas Coupland. In an interview with a Swiss radio station, he said:

What I find exciting about the zeitgeist right now is that something big is about to happen. We all know that. We grew up with the idea that the future was something that was still down the road and we still just live in the present. But today we live in the future. Every day feels futuristic. (This is mostly a re-translation of the German translation of Coupland, so these are not exactly his words.)

Part of the zeitgeist being that “We live in the future now” felt familiar to me. I had even blogged about it before with respect to SF-films like Tron: Legacy and The Book of Eli. I had heard it before from authors like William Gibson, who have stopped setting their novels in the future because the present has caught up with them, and it ties right in with the discussion about “Retromania” in popular culture.

“Something big is about to happen”, however, is something that I heard for the first time in Coupland’s interview. It rang very true for me and I noticed that I had also encountered it in other films this year. Films that don’t necessarily count as science fiction, even though they might have some fantastic elements in them.

(The following paragraphs contain inevitable spoilers for all three movies discussed)


“The Future”

Miranda July’s second feature film is even called The Future, but it’s a long way from being science fiction. Instead, it tells the story of two thirtysomethings who exist in a relationship that has reached its peak after only four years. The protagonists, played by July and Hamish Linklater, have nothing to say to each other, because they don’t progress. All high hopes for their own development have failed to come to fruition and so they spend their days in a sort of melancholy hipster stupor (a fact that made both characters extremly annoying to me). When they decide to adopt a cat a month from now, they suddenly realize that they should use the remaining days to follow their impulses. Both quit their jobs and decide to do something meaningful. July’s character Sophie wants to express herself through dancing and Jason (Linklater) joins a climate-saving iniative that sells reforestation door-to-door.

But their efforts fail yet again. Sophie begins an affair and Jason starts spending time with an old man who has been married for 60 years. Even though there is some hope for reconciliation at the end of the film, the general feeling that remains is: There is no future for Sophie and Jason. They have already used it up and have only the eternal present left to them. This manifests itself in the second half of the film, where Jason literally tries to stop time. However, while he feels that time has stopped, the moon in the sky outside his window (who has the voice of the old man), constantly informs him that time is actually still creeping forward and that Jason can’t stay in his cocoon forever.

The last time people felt they were living in the future, in the 80s, “We live in the future” quickly turned into “No Future”. The only way out, it seemed, was through the self-destruction of mankind. And indeed, Jason says something to the same effect in July’s film: “The wrecking ball has already struck”, he tells a potential reforestation customer. “This is just the moment before it all falls down.”

That big thing that is about to happen, then, is it an apocalypse?


“Melancholia”

If you believe Lars von Trier, it is. While his latest film Melancholia is mostly a reflection on depression, it also confronts humanity with a doomsday scenario that can easily keep up with Armageddon and similar films whose plot centers around the imminent destruction of earth. In Melancholia, the titular planet is about to come close to earth and most scientists believe that it will safely pass by. Only conspiracy theorists and the main character Justine (Kirsten Dunst), who suffers from depression, are convinced that Melancholia will destroy earth instead. Which, as even the opening scenes promise, it will by the end of the movie.

Von Trier spends a good two thirds of his film setting up and the last third portraying their reactions to the impending doom. Justine is content with this notion, even literally bathes in Melancholia’s light. As a depressive, she “knows” things will always turn out for the worst. Her sister Claire is filled with fear but eventually gives in to her inevitable fate. And Claire’s husband John, a capitalist conservative and a believer in science and mankind’s ability to prevail, commits suicide as soon as he learns he was wrong.

It’s easy to read those reactions as – or compare them to – interpretations of the zeitgeist mentioned earlier. We can accept it, we can fear it or we can try to hide from it. What von Trier makes clear, though, is that the Big Thing, which in his movie is a threat, will happen, no matter what. So it might be best to side with the depressives.


“Another Earth”

One other movie was released this year, which shares the feeling of anticipation I have described in Melancholia and The Future. It also shares Melancholia‘s key image of an uncanny new heavenly body in the sky above us. But Mike Cahill’s Another Earth also offers a more hopeful prospect of the time after the metaphorical wrecking ball has struck.

Cahill’s main character Rhoda is in a “no future” situation as well, although her reasons are quite different. As a teenager, she was responsible for a car crash that took the lives of a young woman and her child. The child’s father John, who was also in the car, has survived. When Rhoda is released from prison after a number of years, she has lost all ambition and instead starts a cleaning job at her old high school. Then, she seeks out John and without revealing her identity to him, offers to regularly clean his house. He agrees and she slowly brings both the house and him back to life. He eventually falls in love with her but casts her out when she tells him why she came to him in the first place.

The catalyst for the car crash, which leads to all the events that follow it, is the appearance of a second earth in the sky. Rhoda gazes at this other earth when the crash happens and she later wins a spot on the first flight to what turns out to be an exact mirror image of our planet, people and all. Because the parallel timelines have started diverging when the two mirror planets became visible to each other, there is hope that John’s family might be alive on the other earth. Rhoda eventually gives her space on the flight to John.

In Cahill’s thought experiment, the big change that society faces is not a destructive wrecking ball at all, it might even offer a chance to begin again. This general sentiment has been a trope of post-apocalyptic scenarios for ages, but in Another Earth there is no major scale apocalypse, only a personal one. A Big Thing wakes mankind from its futureless existence and offers new perspectives on how to continue.

Personal postscript: I was too young in the 80s to understand any societal notions of Future or No Future. The very fact that I spent my earliest childhood in exactly those days (without older siblings) has made it hard for me to understand or appreciate 80s pop culture at all, while I find everything that came before or after much more accessible. But as far as I am concerned, there was a Big Change at the end of the decade. While the collapse of the Soviet Union and the reunification of the country I live in might have robbed the western world of a clear antagonist (at least until 9/11) and lead the world at large into the global economic meltdown it is facing right now, culture and society in general, at least the way I see it, have benefitted from that change. If only to prove to us now that the world, and thus: the future and the zeitgeist, very probably will continue to exist.

Will The Avengers be exceptional or generic?

When the first trailer for The Avengers hit the net on Tuesday, I tweeted something which has been on my mind for a few days now: I haven’t been this excited about a film and followed every step of its development since The Lord of the Rings, ten years ago. My exclamation met with incredulity from my fellow film buff friend Carsten: “I don’t get it”, he wrote. “Looks totally generic.” And I couldn’t help but tell him, he’s right.

Others have already voiced their skepticism about Marvel’s big project. “Wired” author Erin Biba tweeted “So I guess The Avengers is just gonna be Iron Man 3 then”, and “Cinemablend” made an excellent list of 5 Reasons The Avengers Trailer Was Kind Of A Letdown: nothing new, no character dynamics, not enough characters, terrible music and the best reason: “It just didn’t make The Avengers seem as special as it is.”

Want to watch the trailer again? Here it is.

I think “Cinemablend”‘s last reason is key here, and it ties in with Erin’s Tweet. If The Avengers will really only be a sort of Tony Stark show with a couple of other guys in the background, then it will become another generic comic book movie, maybe even a comic book movie that suffers from the extra plot stuffed in for franchise reasons like Iron Man 2. And the trailer doesn’t do much to ward off that sentiment.

Nevermind that the movie turned out to be terrible, but do you remember the first teaser trailer for The Phantom Menace? It did have that “Every saga has a beginning …”-feel to it. It had Anakin Skywalker meeting Obi-Wan for the first time, it had the moment where Darth Maul unveils his double-bladed lightsaber. It definitely got me excited. The first teaser for The Fellowship of the Ring said “It wasn’t until now that the legend could finally come to life!” – even more excitement there. The Avengers trailer doesn’t even say “Avengers assemble!”. The teaser at the end of Captain America did a much better job at making this exceptional movie project actually look exceptional (not least because of the “Some Assembly Required” tagline).

The question stands: Will The Avengers, the movie itself, not the effort that went into building up the project, actually be exceptional? Something the trailer pulled into question for me is: Does Marvel see this film as a culmination? A finale of sorts to the five movies that preceded it? Or will it be just a continuation of the universe they are building? If people keep expecting the former and the movie turns out to be the latter, with too many loose ends, not at least some sense of closure and no general feeling of Big Momentness – it will definitely disappoint a lot of people.

I don’t read comic books continually and generally haven’t followed any periodical narrative regularly for some time now (I only watch tv series on DVD sets), but what Marvel has been trying to do with the building of their universe and the creation of their franchises is basically to import comic book narrative mechanics into the movie world. The first Avengers book was a decisive narrative moment in time, because it brought together heroes that hadn’t worked together before, but it was no culmination, it was a beginning – and it ultimately did feel quite generic to me when I caught up with reading it recently. In one of the last panels, one of the characters says something to the effect of “A team of superheroes, huh? We could give it a try.” Not really very momentous.

If Joss Whedon knows what he’s doing, like I hope he does, he will not make this look like Iron Man, Hulk, Thor, Cap and the rest of them are merely giving it a try. He will make this The Moment We’ve All Been Waiting For(tm), when the heroes of five movies finally assemble. And then, The Avengers will be exceptional – and not as generic as its first trailer.

Rezension: Mashup – Das vernünftige Manifest

Bild: Suhrkamp/InselIm Internet hilft es häufig, laut zu schreien. Wer gehört werden will im Wust von Status Updates, Tweets, Blogposts und suchmaschinenoptimierten Artikeln, dem kann es selten schaden, seine Position vielleicht noch ein bisschen mehr zuzuspitzen, sich selbst ein paar Zentimeter mehr in Richtung Boulevard zu schieben. Kein Artikel ohne Bild, keine Überschrift, die nicht nach Skandal riechen könnte, kein Meinungsartikel ohne durchnummerierte Bullet Points.

Mashup: Lob der Kopie von jetzt.de-Redaktionsleiter Dirk von Gehlen passt in diese Aufzählung nicht hinein. Suhrkamp, der Verlag, in dem von Gehlens Buch erschienen ist, gestaltet seine Buchdeckel so minimalistisch wie möglich und scheint mit seinem anspruchsvollen Selbstverständnis keinen Platz mehr zu haben in der hyperventilierenden Echtzeit-Welt des Netzes. Was also macht ein Buch über Medienwandel, ein Plädoyer für ein nachhaltiges Umdenken im Umgang mit geistigen Gütern im digitalen Zeitalter genau dort?

Es wirkt. Die Konzeption und Veröffentlichtung von Mashup in genau diesem Kontext erscheint fast wie ein Infiltrationsversuch. Die Netzgemeinde selbst jubelt sich ohnehin schon oft genug zu, wenn es um die immer neue und doch immer gleiche Beschreibung ihrer Werte und Visionen geht. Überzeugt werden muss nicht die digitale Bohême, sondern die Frank Schirrmachers und die Suhrkamp-Leser dieser Welt. Und genau dort sollte Mashup vorzüglich wirken.

Dirk von Gehlens Argumente für einen entspannteren und freieren Umgang mit kreativ verwendeten Kopien sind nicht neu. Sie sind zusammengetragen – man möchte sagen: zusammenkopiert. Das Lob der Kopie beschreibt in seinem Titel seine eigene Arbeitsweise, die gleichzeitig seit Jahrhunderten die Arbeitsweise der Wissenschaft ist. Von Gehlen zitiert ausführlich aus Goethe-Memoiren, Standardwerken, Gesetzestexten und wissenschaftlichen Kommentaren. Er beschreibt methodisch und unaufgeregt die Entwicklung des Urheberrechts und wählt die in seinen Augen besten Vorschläge zu dessen Anpassung aus. Er führt Experteninterviews, die eigentlich nur weitere Zitate einzelner Denker sind, seinen eigenen Worten aber zusätzliches Gewicht verleihen. Mashup beginnt bewusst mit einem Beispiel aus der archaischen, ganz und gar nicht hypertextuellen Welt des Fußballs. Und es schließt mit Forderungen, die auch einem Vermittlungsausschuss entspringen könnten: moderat, fundiert und vernünftig. Forderungen nach der Anerkennung der kreativen Kopie als Partizipation an Originalen, die nur wir selbst zu solchen gemacht haben.

Der Clou an Mashup ist, dass es sich für eine Reductio ad Absurdum so gar nicht eignet – ganz anders als die Visionen mancher Netzevangelisten von Cluetrain bis Jarvis, die man je nach Weltsicht vortrefflich lieben oder hassen kann. Stattdessen hat von Gehlen hat eine der elementaren Ideen des digitalen Zeitalters auf genau der Ebene zusammengefasst, die sie auch für Skeptiker überzeugend machen sollte. Die Kategorie “junger Heißsporn”, welche die Altvorderen dazu bringen könnte, das Buch mit einem gnädigen Schmunzeln abzutun, bedient er – mit einer “Playlist zum Buch” etwa – nur gerade soweit, dass sie noch sympathisch und nicht umstürzlerisch wirkt.

Bleibt nur zu hoffen, dass der Infiltrationsversuch gelingt.


Mashup bei Suhrkamp. Titelabbildung von dort.

Fuck you, movie studios, for your DVD release politics!

I saw 127 Hours on the big screen when it came to German cinemas in February this year. I enjoyed it a lot. So much so, that I basically came out of the theatre and said to myself: “I’m going to get the DVD as soon as it’s out.” Not only did I want to see it again and show it to friends, I’m also a big fan of director Danny Boyle and like his insightful audio commentaries and interviews in the DVD extras of the movies he made so far.

When I wanted to pick up the film this summer, first on my visit to the States and then later here in Germany, I found out that the DVD strangely doesn’t have any bonus material at all. I kept looking around for a Special Edition, more than willing to pay the extra money for what I would get, but there was none. There was only a BluRay, which contained all the stuff I wanted: the alternate ending I had Simon Beaufoy talk about in a podcast, an audio commentary and background material on the story that inspired the film. The BluRay version is the only release of 127 Hours that contains this material.

I noticed about a year ago that Disney started going down the same route. When Fantasia came out, I went and bought the “Special Edition” on the day of release. I couldn’t wait to see one of my favourite animation classics again. The disc did have some extras, so I was content. It was only later that I found out that the BluRay edition featured an additional audio commentary and a feature about the “Schultheis Notebook” in the Disney Family Museum. So the “Special Edition” wasn’t special at all. It was a stripped down version of the release.* As time went on I noted that every new Disney release went this way: a BluRay with lots of features and a half-cooked DVD. If you know of any more releases that do the same, please point them out in the comments.

I don’t own a BluRay player for two reasons: I really don’t think HD is all it’s made out to be and I don’t have the TV to enjoy it. Even though I like to read and write about the technical side of movies, in the end, it’s the movies themselves that are important, not the immaculateness of image and sound. That is not the case when I see a movie in cinemas – where I expect the best possible projection and sound system for the money I paid – but to see it on a disc at home, I am okay with a clear and clean image. It doesn’t have to be clearer and cleaner than when it was shot.

But my viewing preferences are beside the point here. The point is that the whole reason that there is a home video market at all is because home video adds value to just re-releasing a movie at the cinema every few years (like Disney did and still does sometimes). That value originally was that it gives you free choice, when and how often you want to watch the movie again, and that it’s a lot cheaper as well. When Laser Discs and DVDs came along, the studios added more value on top of that and sprinkled extras onto the discs – we here in Germany could also finally watch the film in its original version.

The value that BluRay was supposed to add was a more pristine HD picture and sound. For lots of customers, apparently, that added value didn’t really explain why they should spend more money on movie discs and a new playing device, even if they already had an HDTV. Even now, where BluRays cost almost as much as DVDs when it comes to new releases, people don’t automatically reach for BluRay. And why should they? Most non-movie-buffs I know don’t even care if the image on their TV at home is in the right aspect ratio. Why should they care about the HD-ness of a BluRay in comparison to a DVD?

So what do corporations do whenever the quality of their new product does not improve enough on the old one and people just keep using the senior model? They discontinue it so people are eventually forced to buy the new one. That’s standard business practice. I was expecting the DVD to be taken out of circulation eventually (and I have that big TV and BluRay player lined up for purchase as soon as I want to afford it). What I hate, though, is this mishmash in between – when everything is still released on DVD, even on “Special Editions”, but it suddenly is so much worse than the new kid in town, because the manufacturer wilfully made it so. That’s just annoying. So, Fuck you!, movie studios, for taking it out on the movie lovers. Fuck you very much.

* The release in general could have done with some more bonus stuff, but that’s another story.

Nicht in die Fresse. Die erste deutsche “Wired”

Was ist eigentlich aus dem Ausdruck “Mitten in die Fresse” geworden? Die erste deutsche Ausgabe der Zeitschrift “Wired” sei “deutsch ‘in your face'” hat Chefredakteur Thomas Knüwer stattdessen in einem Interview mit “Horizont” gesagt. Ein widersprüchlicheres Bonmot hat man lange nicht mehr gelesen.

Widersprüchlichkeit findet sich auch in der merkwürdig schizophrenen Haltung des Magazins zu sich selbst. Deutsche In-Your-Facigkeit heißt anscheinend, dass sich schon das Editorial von Knüwer, ehemals Redakteur des “Handelsblatt” und seit Jahren kritischer Beobachter der deutschen Medienlandschaft, wie eine einzige große Rechtfertigung dafür liest, warum “Wired” in Deutschland überhaupt erscheinen sollte. “Kann Deutschland das noch, sich für Fortschritt entflammen?” heißt es dort. Die Argumentation setzt sich in Knüwers Leitartikel fort, in dem das angeblich ausschließlich negativ besetzte Wort “Nerd” dem positiveren “Geek” gegenübergestellt und die Häufigkeit des ersteren als Beweis für Deutschlands Innovationsfeindlichkeit herangezogen wird. Eine Haltung, die in den Reaktionen auf das Magazin im Netz von vielen stolzen Nerds bereits abgelehnt wurde.

Klar – es blinken einem aus dem Design des Magazins von jeder Ecke die Farben Schwarz-Rot-Gold entgegen. Johannes Gutenberg wird (von einem Amerikaner, Jeff Jarvis) als “erster deutscher Geek” bezeichnet und viele der porträtierten Geeks sind Deutsche oder arbeiten hier. Doch so recht wollte in mir bei der Lektüre kein Patriotismus aufkeimen. Und das sicher nicht nur, weil die fotografierten Atommeiler in der zentralen Fotostrecke zur Zeit nach der Energiewende alle in der Schweiz stehen.

“Wired” erscheint seit 1993 in den USA und besitzt bereits Ableger in Großbritannien, Japan und Italien. Die Zeitschrift ist geprägt durch einen visionären, hoffnungsvollen und innovativen Blick auf Technik, Innovation und die Welt, in der wir leben. Sie scheint ständig sagen zu wollen: “Schaut her, wir haben jede Menge Probleme aber wir schaffen das schon.” Die Überbringung dieser Botschaft gelingt ihr in einer Zweiteilung des Magazins in kurze, scharfzüngig-humorvolle Fenster auf die verdrahtete Erde und lange, analytische Artikel aus der aktuellen Forschungs- und Kulturlandschaft.

In der deutschen “Wired” hingegen scheint dieser Haltung oft eine Art Sicherheitsnetz vorgeschaltet zu sein, das sich nicht nur in Knüwers Selbstgeißelung sondern auch im eher moderaten Tonfall der Kurzrubriken und der deutlich kürzeren und damit zwangsweise oberflächlicheren Artikel niederschlägt. Thomas Knüwer hat die mögliche Reaktionen darauf im anfangs zitierten Interview sogar vorhergesehen, bleibt aber bei seinem Standpunkt, die amerikanische Machart sei in Deutschland “so nicht brauchbar”.

Am besten sollte man die deutsche “Wired” mit dem Auge von “Wired” selbst betrachten. Das kühne Design loben, die liebevoll gestalteten Infografiken, die starken Meinungskolumnen von Vertretern der deutschen Netzgemeinde und die Spaßrubrik “FAQ”, die tatsächlich Spuren der gewohnten “Wired”-Rotzigkeit besitzt. Vor allem aber anerkennen, dass es Erstausgaben ohne feste Zusage auf Fortsetzung in ihrer Selbstbehauptung immer schwer haben, eben weil ihnen die Aufenthaltsgenehmigung erst noch ausgestellt werden muss. Und man darf, wie es “Wired” tun würde, die Hoffnung nicht aufgeben, dass gute Absichten belohnt werden. Dass die deutsche “Wired” kein Einzelexperiment bleibt, in Serie geht und es sich in Zukunft dann vielleicht auch leisten kann, noch ein bisschen mehr in die Fresse zu schlagen – und ein bisschen weniger schief in your Face zu grinsen.

erschienen in epd medien 37/2011

Found: C-3PO Tape Dispenser Creates Disturbing Associations

I saw this a the Museum of the Moving Image in New York. The kind of stuff that got produced in the early days of Star Wars merchandising will probably never cease to amaze me.

You probably need an adult (dirty) mind to think dirty about this but I don’t want to be parent to the kid who shouts: “Look, Daddy, C3PO has sticky white stuff coming out between his legs!” The “look” on Threepio’s face, however, is what makes this really priceless.

Ruhe in Frieden, Loriot. Du wirst mir nicht fehlen.

Gestern habe ich gehört, dass Loriot vorgestern gestorben ist. Ich fand das sehr schade, denn wie viele Menschen meiner Generation bin ich mit Loriots Gesamt-Oeuvre aufgewachsen. Seine Sketche waren immer schon da. Sie waren bereits Kulturgut geworden, eingebrannt in die deutsche Seele und jederzeit zitierfähig. Anders als einige meiner Freunde kann ich, glaube ich, kaum einen Sketch auswendig, gesehen habe ich sie aber immer wieder gerne und ich bin wie viele Nachrufer der Meinung, dass Loriot seinen feinfühlige und doch beißend satirischen Humor auf eine Weise umgesetzt hat, die seitdem keiner mehr erreicht hat.

Nachdem die Nachricht von Loriots Tod durchgesickert war überschlug sich auch mein Newsfeed auf Facebook mit Trauerbekundungen, Zitaten und YouTube-Links. Jedoch: So sehr ich Loriots Werk verehre – echte Trauer wollte sich bei mir nicht einstellen. Trauer in dem Sinn, als dass ich nicht plötzlich das Gefühl hatte, in meinem Leben würde zukünftig etwas fehlen.

In der Meldung von tagesschau.de heißt es im vorletzten Absatz:

Vor ein paar Jahren zog sich Loriot ganz bewusst aus der Öffentlichkeit zurück. “Wenn ich alt und klapprig bin und keinen Gedanken mehr im Kopf habe und nicht mehr weiß, wo oben und unten ist, dann höre ich auf”, sagte er auf die Frage nach seinem Alter und das Aufhören im Beruf.

Selbst vor diesem völligen Rückzug vor rund fünf Jahren war Loriot, eigentlich schon seit Mitte der 90er Jahre, nicht mehr im eigentlichen Sinne “aktiv”. Gelegentlich eröffnete er Ausstellungen und nahm Preise entgegen und war dabei – da bin ich mir sicher – noch immer so charmant und klug wie zuvor. Zu mir drang das schon gar nicht mehr durch – und ich denke, den meisten meiner Zeitgenossen geht es ähnlich. So ist es auch kein Wunder, dass sich alle Nachrufe auf seine Sketche, Filme und Texte konzentrieren und nicht auf sein letztes großes Alterswerk (von dem ich nicht sicher bin, ob es existiert). Loriot war 87. Ich denke es ist, im großen kosmischen Gleichgewicht gesehen, okay, dass er gestorben ist.

Natürlich gilt das nicht für seine Familie und seine Freunde und für jeden anderen, der ihn persönlich kannte. Aber für uns Ottonormal-Kabarettkonsumenten hier unten hat er es doch genau richtig gemacht. Als lebendige, öffentliche Person war er längst verblasst, während sein unsterbliches Werk noch immer genau so strahlt wie damals. Loriot hat mir die letzten 15 Jahre nicht gefehlt, weil sein Vermächtnis wichtiger war als seine Öffentlichkeit. Daher wird er mir auch zukünftig nicht fehlen. Er ist ja immer noch da.