Schultze Gets the Blues

This bittersweet début shines with its dry tone and loving portrayal of forgotten backwaters. Michael Schorr has a warm spot for the shabby old workers for whom this modern era seems to have no place anymore. In Saksen-Anhalt, in what used to be East Germany, the protagonist Schultze, plagued by a chronic cough, has built his whole life in the mine and the bar, where he silently downs one beer after another. But when the mines close and he and his mates Manfred and Jürgen are pensioned off early, little remains for the unmarried Schultze. His hobbies -fishing and the accordion -do not seem enough to keep boredom at bay. Seem. Because when Schultze, whose father was regarded as the greatest polka player the village ever knew, hears a cheerful zydeco melody on the radio, he is inspired by the up-tempo style from Louisiana, to the horror of many traditionally-minded villagers. Then he learns to cook jambalaya and takes on jobs to save for the great journey to the miraculous country where they make beautiful, lively accordion music. In a style that aptly suits the subject, Schorr allows the images to tell the story and the jokes. Undoubtedly partly as a result of his sharp eye for detail and composition, the film won the directing prize of the Controcorrente in Venice.