Vienna in Print & on Film
Viennese writing and cinema is often bowed down by the weight of personal and national histories. Living under an autocratic empire, dealing with the end of an autocratic empire, the guilt of Anschluss , the horror of Nazism, the emotional legacy of WWII, neo-Nazism, misanthropy, religious upbringing and a real or imagined bleakness of life are all very, very popular themes.
Austria’s literary tradition really took off around the end of the 19th century. Karl Kraus (1874–1936) was one of the period’s major figures; his apocalyptic drama Die letzten Tage der Menschheit (The Last Days of Mankind) employed a combination of reports, interviews and press extracts to tell its tale. Peter Altenberg (1859–1919) was a drug addict, an alcoholic, a fan of young girls and a poet who depicted the Bohemian lifestyle of Vienna. Whenever asked where he lived, he reputedly always gave the address of Café Central, where you find his paper mâché figure adorning the room today. Two of his collected works are Evocations of Love (1960) and Telegrams of the Soul: Selected Prose of Peter Altenberg (2005).
Robert Musil (1880–1942) was one of the most important 20th-century writers, but he only achieved international recognition after his death, when his major literary achievement about Belle Époque Vienna, Der Mann ohne Eigenschaften (The Man without Qualities), was – at seven volumes – still unfinished. Stefan Zweig (1881–1942), another of the greatest writers in German, was born in Vienna and in his autobiography Die Welt von Gestern (The World of Yesterday, 1942–3) he vividly describes Vienna of the early 20th century. A poet, playwright, translator, paranoiac and pacifist, Zweig believed Nazism had been conceived specifically with him in mind and when he became convinced in 1942 that Hitler would take over the world, he killed himself in exile in Brazil.
Arthur Schnitzler (1862–1931), a friend of Freud, was a prominent Jewish writer in Vienna’s fin de siècle years. His play Reigen (Hands Around), set in 1900 against a Viennese backdrop, was described by Hitler as ‘Jewish filth’; it gained considerable fame in the English-speaking world as Max Ophul’s film La Ronde . Joseph Roth (1894–1939), primarily a journalist, wrote about the concerns of Jews in exile and of Austrians uncertain of their identity at the end of the empire. His book What I Saw : Reports from Berlin is part of an upsurge of interest in this fascinating writer; his most famous works, Radetzky March and The Emperor’s Tomb, are both gripping tales set in the declining Austro-Hungarian Empire.
Perhaps it’s something in the water, but the majority of modern and contemporary Viennese authors (at least those translated into English) are grim, guilt-ridden, angry and sometimes incomprehensibly avant-garde. Thomas Bernhard (1931–89) was born in Holland but grew up and lived in Austria. He was obsessed with disintegration and death, and in later works like Holzfällen: Eine Erregung (Cutting Timber: An Irritation) turned to controversial attacks against social conventions and institutions. His novels are seamless (no chapters or paragraphs, few full stops) and seemingly repetitive, but surprisingly readable once you get into them.
Peter Handke’s (born 1942) postmodern, abstract output encompasses innovative and introspective prose works and stylistic plays. His book The Goalie’s Anxiety at the Penalty Kick (1970) brought him acclaim, helped along by a film based on the book and directed by Wim Wenders. His essay on the Balkan wars of the 1990s, A Journey to the Rivers: Justice for Serbia (1997), took an unpopular stance on Serbia and further cemented his reputation for being controversial.
The provocative novelist Elfriede Jelinek (born 1946), winner of the Nobel Prize for Literature in 2004, dispenses with direct speech, indulges in strange flights of fancy and takes a very dim view of humanity. Her works are highly controversial, often disturbingly pornographic, and either loved or hated by critics. Jelinek’s Women as Lovers (1994) and The Piano Teacher (1983) are two of her most acclaimed works. Her controversial Greed (2000) focuses on gender and the relationships between men and women.
The most successful of the contemporary writers is arguably Daniel Kehlmann (born 1975), who achieved national and international acclaim with his Measuring the World , based on the lives of Alexander von Humboldt and Carl Friedrich Gauss. Kehlmann was born in Munich and grew up in Vienna. A film based on the book was released in 2012, directed by the idiosyncratic German director and actor Detlev Buck.
Modern Viennese cinema is a bleak landscape of corrupt and venal characters beating their children and dogs while struggling with a legacy of hatred and guilt. That might be a slight exaggeration, but contemporary film does seem to favour naturalism over escapism, violent sex over flowery romance, ambivalence and dislocation over happy endings.
The film industry is lively and productive, turning out Cannes Film Festival–sweepers like Michael Haneke, whose The Piano Teacher (2001, based on the novel by Elfriede Jelinek), Funny Games (2008), The White Ribbon (2009) and Amour (2012) have all picked up prizes at Cannes. Amour also won the Academy Award for Best Foreign Film.
A healthy serving of government arts funding keeps the film industry thriving, as does the Viennese passion for a trip to the
Kino
(cinema). Local, independent films are as well attended as blockbusters by Graz-boy-made-good, Arnie Schwarzenegger. A yearly festival, Viennale (Click here), draws experimental and fringe films from all over Europe, keeping the creative juices flowing, while art-house cinemas like the gorgeous
Jugendstil
Breitenseer Lichtspiele
(
982 21 73; Breitenseer Strasse 21, 14)
keep the Viennese proud of their rich cinematic history.
That history has turned out several big names (‘big’ in that they’ve moved to America and been accepted by Hollywood). Fritz Lang made the legendary Metropolis (1926), the story of a society enslaved by technology, and The Last Will of Dr Mabuse (1932), during which an incarcerated madman spouts Nazi doctrine. Billy Wilder, writer and director of hits like Some Like it Hot , The Apartment and Sunset Boulevard , was Viennese, though he moved to the US early in his career. Hedy Lamarr – Hollywood glamour girl and inventor of submarine guidance systems – was also born in Vienna. Klaus Maria Brandauer, star of Out of Africa and Mephisto , is another native. And Vienna itself has been the star of movies such as The Third Man , The Night Porter and Before Sunrise .
Documentary-maker Ulrich Seidl has made Jesus, You Know , following six Viennese Catholics as they visit their church for prayer, and Animal Love , an investigation of Viennese suburbanites who have abandoned human company for that of pets. Lately he has branched into features with Dog Days . Jessica Hausner has earned a strong reputation by directing films such as Lovely Rita , the story of a suburban girl who kills her parents in cold blood, and Lourdes , which is about an atheistic woman with multiple sclerosis who makes a pilgrimage to Lourdes.
‘I had paid my last farewell to Harry a week ago, when his coffin was lowered into the frozen February ground, so that it was with incredulity that I saw him pass by, without a sign of recognition, among the host of strangers in the Strand.’ Thus wrote Graham Greene on the back of an envelope. There it stayed, for many years, an idea without a context. Then Sir Alexander Korda asked him to write a film about the four-power occupation of postwar Vienna.
Greene had an opening scene and a framework, but no plot. He flew to Vienna in 1948 and searched with increasing desperation for inspiration. Nothing came to mind until, with his departure imminent, Greene had lunch with a British intelligence officer who told him about the underground police who patrolled the huge network of sewers beneath the city, and the black-market trade in penicillin. Greene put the two ideas together and created his story.
Shot in Vienna in the same year, the film perfectly captures the atmosphere of postwar Vienna using an excellent play of shadow and light. The plot is simple but gripping; Holly Martin, an out-of-work writer played by Joseph Cotton, travels to Vienna at the request of his old school mate Harry Lime (played superbly by Orson Welles), only to find him dead under mysterious circumstances. Doubts over the death drag Martin into the black-market penicillin racket and the path of the multinational force controlling Vienna. Accompanying the first-rate script, camera work and acting is a mesmerising soundtrack. After filming one night, director Carol Reed was dining at a Heuriger (wine tavern) and fell under the spell of Anton Karas’ zither playing. Although Karas could neither read nor write music, Reed flew him to London to record the soundtrack. His bouncing, staggering ‘Harry Lime Theme’ dominated the film, became a chart hit and earned Karas a fortune.
The Third Man was an instant success, and has aged with grace and style. It won first prize at Cannes in 1949, the Oscar for Best Camera for a Black and White Movie in 1950, and was selected by the British Film Institute as ‘favourite British film of the 20th century’ in 1999. For years, the Burg Kino has screened the film on a weekly basis.
The film’s popularity has spawned the Third Man Private Collection (Click here). True aficionados may want to take the Third Man Tour (Click here) in English. It covers all the main locations used in the film, including a glimpse of the underground sewers, home to 2.5 million rats.
The roots of theatre in Vienna date back to religious liturgies and passion plays of the mid- and late Middle Ages. Baroque operas staged from the late 16th century were very much influenced by Italian styles, and under Habsburg monarchs such as Ferdinand III and Karl VI, baroque theatre of the royal court rose to its zenith. In 1741 Maria Theresia paved the way for abroad theatre audience when she had a hall used for playing the tennis-like game jeu de paume converted into the original Burgtheater on Michaelerplatz. This later moved to the Ringstrasse into the premises of today’s Burgtheater.