Following several art house retrospectives over the past few years, The Criterion Channel’s curated June lineup is highlighting the eccentric films of German auteur. Ulrike Ottinger, an unsung hero of the German New Wave and forerunner of contemporary queer cinema. Ottinger’s diverse body of work consists primarily of vibrant community-focused documentaries as well as camp adaptations of various literary texts and artistic figures, including Virginia Woolf‘s Orlando, Oscar Wilde‘s Dorian Gray, and John Singer Sargent‘s Madame X. It would be easy to misplace Ottinger’s intertextual filmography within the category of inaccessible intellectual fare. But, the meandering storylines, gorgeous production design, and humorously empathetic performances at the core of each film sets Ottinger’s work apart as a cathartic and vital expression of the Cold War-era feminine experience in Germany. In particular, Ottinger’s Berlin Trilogy – comprised of the boozy and stylish character study Ticket of No Returnthe carnivalesque ensemble comedy Freak Orlandoand the psychedelic satire Dorian Gray in the Mirror of the Yellow Press – offers a near-perfect perspective into the Cold War critique and feminist liberation at the center of her magical multi-textual films.
From the opening purchase of the titular ticket to the glass-shattering ending, Ticket of No Return kicks off the Berlin trilogy on a path of aimless self-indulgence centered on Tabea Blumenschein‘s dissatisfied drunk punk protagonist known only as “She.” As Ottinger’s creative and romantic partner throughout the majority of her early career, Blumenschein perfectly channels the surrealistic and stylized tendencies of Ottinger’s aesthetic into her inebriated jaunt across Berlin. Rendering Berlin as the anxious and ambiguous epicenter of the Cold War tensions through the cold grayness of desolate alleyways and early 21st-century architecture, Ottinger brilliantly foregrounds the lavish and outlandish outfits that Blumenschein wears on her bender, emphasizing the absurdity of personal expression in the midst. of sociopolitical strife. Rather than sidelining the importance of individuality in the midst of a divided city, Ottinger mobilizes Ticket of No Return as a statement of personal independence and unabashed self-proclamation, as Blumenschein’s protagonist remains unapologetic for her intoxicated meandering and decadent wardrobe.
Although international films of the following decade like Susan Seidelman‘s Smithereens and Bette Gordon‘s Variety would engage in similar post-punk statements on personal liberation from late Cold War patriarchy, Ticket of No Return remains ahead of its time in terms of Ottinger’s witty and emotionally complex approach to personal disillusionment in the face of a scoffing heteronormative society. Rather than embodying the masses through an ensemble-centric Neorealism, Ottinger interrupts the film with a tweed suit-wearing Greek chorus made up of three women named “Accurate Statistics,” “Social Question,” and “Common Sense.”
Ticket of No Return intersperses Blumenschein’s silent drunken storyline with recitations of idioms and facts concerning self-care and alcoholism. The film fuses the personal focus of a character study with the performative sociopolitical bite of satire, setting the film apart as a key statement of the New German Cinema. Even as the film concludes with a seemingly passed out protagonist being literally overrun by an unnamed mass of “normal people,” Ottinger’s final shot reveals the full scope of her humorous perspective on feminine self-confidence and political upheaval in the midst of Cold War Germany. .
Expanding her cinematic scope beyond the Blumenschein-centric character study of personal freedom and social subversion, Freak Orlando sees Ottinger explore the ensemble comedy through collaborations with film legends including Delphine Seyrig (Last Year at Marienbad), Eddie Constantine (Alphaville), and Éric Rohmer‘s longtime editor Jackie Raynal. Freak Orlando investigates the groundbreaking gender swapping and interpersonal intrigue of the Virginia Woolf’s Orlando. The film offers a fragmented portrait of history from the perspective of a time-traveling “freak” played by Magdalena Montezuma (who also appeared in Ticket of No Return). Featuring colorful medieval garb, a crowned cross-dressing Jesus, and a gang of metal masked punks wreaking havoc, Freak Orlando defies easy description without ever falling into dry intellectualism. Instead, many of the film’s standout sequences blend a Pythonesque sense of humor with a queer interpretation of a Fellini-like carnival, allowing the film to meet audiences at every level with equal entertainment value and intellectual stimulation.
Even as the costumes in Ticket of No Return capture the uncanny inventiveness of Ottinger’s sense of style, Freak Orlando uses colorful costuming and found locations across contemporary Berlin to combine BDSM-influenced looks with fairytale-like physical storytelling, setting the film apart as a glorious fable of liberated identity and freedom of expression in the midst of a fractured German social landscape. Culminating in an unparalleled performative ride into the sunset, Freak Orlando delivers on the creative promise of Ticket of No Return with a communal celebration of personal difference and queer individualism.
While Ticket of No Return and Freak Orlando deftly introduce Ottinger’s interest in feminist freedom and literary playfulness, Dorian Gray in the Mirror of the Yellow Press acts a satisfying and boundary pushing conclusion to an already groundbreaking trilogy. Combining the queer Gothicism of Oscar Wilde’s The Picture of Dorian Gray with the German expressionist villainy of Fritz Lang‘s Dr. Mabuse films, Dorian Gray in the Mirror of the Yellow Press spins a satirical web against the unchecked power of tabloid media and the oppressive intrusion of political surveillance in the Cold War era. By casting Delphine Seyrig as the antagonist Dr. Mabuse and German supermodel Veruschka as the titular protagonist, Ottinger subverts the patriarchal systems of gender performance from the outset of the film, allowing her candy-colored sartorial spectacle to solidify her feminist upheaval of Cold War systems. Fusing expressive backdrops littered with televisions and newspapers alongside images of Berlin’s iconic streets and graveyards, Ottinger’s Dorian Gray reclaims perceived superficiality as a bastion of multilayered personal expression, emphasizing the importance of self-identification in the midst of cultural flux.
Although each of the films in The Berlin Trilogy gesture towards conceptions of queerness, part of the magic at the core of Ottinger’s cinematic voice is found in her own contribution to the creation of contemporary queer cinema. From the meandering meditation on disillusioned self-discovery in Ticket of No Return to satirical reclamations of history, literature, and media in both Freak Orlando and Dorian Gray in the Mirror of the Yellow Press, Ottinger’s films simultaneously capture a specific moment in German history and remain a ubiquitous post-punk statement on anti-establishment individuality. While Ottinger’s work may appear on paper as a structure of superficiality for the sake of self-satisfaction, the first few minutes of any film in The Berlin Trilogy will clarify her career as a collage of sociopolitical expression and feminist revolution. Even as auteurs like Werner Herzog and Wim Wenders remain at the center of conversation concerning the vitality of the German Cinema of the 1970s and 1980s, Ulrike Ottinger deserves equal praise and recognition as an essential feminist filmmaker and an unsung hero of the German New Wave.