Director: Peter Geyer (Germany). Year of Release: 2023
How to explain Loriot to a non-German audience? He was born Vicco von Bulow in 1923, which, like most Germans with “von” in their name, makes him posh. Presumably this film was made to mark his centenary, He was a cartoonist, and if you visit a certain sort of low-grade German tourist shop, you can see his drawings, usually of normal-looking people who seem to be a bit confused, everywhere. He died just over a decade ago, and is buried in the same graveyard as George Grosz.
This is a very low-concept film – just show 31 of Loriot’s cartoons back to back with little added fluff. The cartoons were mainly created in the 1960s and 1970s, but director Peter Geyer says that they have been “scrupulously reproduced”, whatever that means. Geyer has used modern technology to add sharpness, and the earliest cartoons have been recoloured, but they still look satisfying old-fashioned, not least because these are cartoons which are not full of superheroes.
The drawing is sparse, and uses as few lines as possible. Loriot often picks on one part of the body – or of clothing – which moves at a different rhythm to the rest of the body, and is often of a disproportionate size. Indeed one of the cartoons is based on two men willing different parts of their bodies to be a different size, and much of a humour comes from a finger which is so much larger than the rest of its body, that it just looks odd.
Most of the content is absurd and (yes this is possible from a German humourist), just a bit silly. A repeated story is of two men sharing a bath in a hotel because one of them has entered the wrong room. Each man refuses to leave and they bicker over the heat of the water and the presence of a rubber duck. The problem with trying to explain scenes like this is that the humour lies in the staging and not what actually happens, so all commentary ruins the enjoyable silliness of it all.
Another recurring scene – of a hapless tv interviewer and interviewee, neither of whom is sure whether the camera is actually running – is similar in tone to the Long Johns sketches by John Bird and John Fortune. Loriot’s writing is less scathingly political than that of the Johns, preferring to concentrate more on the ridiculousness of political interviews in general. The interview partners are not idiots, just – like most of Loriot’s characters – unable to cope with their jobs.
Many of the characters speak over each other, not really interested in what the other is saying. What is important here is not the exposition or the story being told, but the pompousness of Man (and in particular of men). It is both a strength and weakness of Loriot’s universe that it is largely populated by men. This is not great for the diversity quota, but, seeing as few of his characters come out looking particularly noble, this is not entirely a bad thing.
Some of the cartoons betray when they were made, and not just because they are 2-dimensional, and generally contain ordinary people. In one scene, Helmut Schmidt appears, and the voice that we hear is provided by the former German Chancellor. Another is a Public Information Film to tell viewers about the then new 5-figure German postcodes. I’m sure that for people who remember these first time round, the nostalgic effect will be immense.
Some of the most impressive pieces are the musical numbers. I can’t explain exactly what it is that I find funny about cartoon singers opening and closing their mouths while the Comedian Harmonists – another Big Thing in Germany – sing their melodies, or when we have pictures of musicians moving their limbs roughly in time to the music. Gerard Hoffnung’s orchestra cartoons have a similar affect on me, and again I can’t quite explain why.
There is one thing less funny than bad comedy, and that is someone trying to explain why good comedy is funny (if you want proof, have a look at Sigmund Freud’s “Jokes and their Relation to the Unconscious”). Some of the cartoons in Loriots große Trickfilmrevue don’t quite work for me, others do. I’m sure there are people out there who find it hilarious from beginning to end, and those who don’t see what all the fuss is about. I find it hard to explain why.
To which all I can say is: go and find out for yourself. At less than 90 minutes, the film is judiciously short, which I think is a good move, as one of the delights of Loriot’s work is how little actually happens. This is good, but good get boring if it is drawn out over too long a period. Don’t expect deep comments on the human condition – these are cartoons that are more silly than satirical, but if that’s all you ever want from a film, you’ll be often disappointed.
Loriots große Trickfilmrevue is what it is, and what it is is an amusing diversion. What more do you want?
CinePhil 