An almost word-for-word remake of the 1972 classic The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant, François Ozon’s latest character study owes perhaps too much of its force and intrigue to the original text.
★★★✰✰
At one point during the film’s climax, Peter von Kant (Denis Ménochet) exclaims “I see everything; the camera sees everything!” Rightly placed on a pedestal in the narrative, this quote sums up one of the main themes that the film takes from the Rainer Werner Fassbinder classic it was based on, The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant: you can make it in life through the arts, but there must be a separation between the two.
There is an abundance of references throughout the film to gay artists—the use of verses from Oscar Wilde’s The Ballad of Reading Gaol in Sidonie’s (Isabelle Adjani) song, or the crossover with real life in the reference to Franco Zeffirelli, for example. These give the impression, particularly when paired with Peter’s flamboyance throughout the film, of an inability to break away from public success and subscription to the artistic intelligentsia, stopping short of the real joys and tragedies of life that lie beneath which one must prepare to face.
The story, which is religiously copied from Fassbinder’s film, follows Peter von Kant, a successful writer who is flamboyantly reclusive, as he handles a new infatuation for young actor Amir (Khalil Gharbia), who is trying to make it big in Germany. The film purports to be ‘freely adapted’ from the original, though many scenes mirror The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant exactly, some key scenes recycling whole lines from the original. However, it must be said that these lines are never awkwardly placed, and that Peter von Kant is clearly a materialisation of Ozon’s interpreted feelings for what is such a foundational piece of Queer Cinema, presented in the form of an ode.
In many ways, this works; the narrative is very effective, despite being an adaptation. But in some ways, the common curse of the remake creeps in and one cannot help but make comparisons to the original. For example, the film’s set design is very fitting for a self-indulgent, edging on psychotic writer in the 1970s. However, it doesn’t compare in metaphor or indeed rigor to Petra von Kant, in which Production Designer Kurt Raab uses Petra’s (Margit Carstensen) clothing designs on one side, and a ginormous wallpaper recreation of Nicolas Poussin’s Midas and Bacchus on the other to flank Petra’s bed, thus using her art to close her off from the outside world; a theme that both films share. The film does explore this theme in other ways, such as the ‘equipment room’ scene, however in this we see another questionable deviation: breaking the single-room setting of Petra von Kant, which is yet another element that adds to this entrapment.
Where it ventures away from the original story is where Ozon’s own interpretation comes in.
Interestingly, Ozon also chooses to add a level of comedy to the film. This is played out very well, particularly through Peter and his assistant Karl (Stefan Crepon), with the comedic potential of the latter’s ever-presence being taken full advantage of. However, what this does to Peter’s character eradicates any small amount of sympathy that gave Petra von Kant depth of character, leaving Peter as just an annoying, almost masochistically dramatic man (one scene in particular, where Amir asks for some money, is an example of complete subjection that disjoints the story). Ménochet’s performance rounds this off solidly, but it must be said that his lamentations become tiresome near the end.
Evidently, one can easily get carried away by comparison. It is possible that where Peter von Kant ventures away from the original story is where Ozon’s own interpretation comes in, which is something that should be celebrated. Ozon’s approach to the theme of generational differences certainly shows this, with the director emphasising Amir’s maltreatment to make his turn in character in the third act more fluid and justified (something that Karin (Hanna Schygulla) is vilified for in the original).
It is true that the intense fidelity with which Peter von Kant sticks to the original story means that the chance for originality is sometimes lost. However, as mentioned, much of this is in the form of reinterpretation, and so must be approached as such. The annoying, lofty way that Peter holds himself does become laboursome, but that itself is another example of the film’s principal theme of the ‘life of an artist’ being oxymoronic, and a reversal of roles from the original in the film’s ending shows brilliantly that Ozon is merely here to celebrate the mastery of The Bitter Tears of Petra von Kant in the most effective way that he, as a filmmaker, knows how to.
The Verdict
Fidelity to the original leaves this film falling flat at times, however in its moments of nuanced deviation, Peter von Kant succeeds in its clear motivation of celebrating and lauding Fassbinder’s Queer Cinema classic.
Words by Oisín McGilloway
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