52 Films by Women Vol 7. 2. A E I O U – A QUICK ALPHABET OF LOVE (Director: Nicolette Krebitz)
A frivolously
enjoyable if slight ‘odd couple’ romantic comedy, German writer-director
Nicolette Krebitz’s fourth feature, A
E I O U – Das Schnelle Alphabet der Liebe (A E I O U – A Quick
Alphabet of Love) wears its
subversion lightly. Ageing widowed actress Anna (Sophie Rois) reluctantly
agrees to offer a juvenile purse snatcher, Adrian (Milan Herms) speech therapy
to help him with an upcoming theatrical performance. The young man becomes
obsessed and leads Anna into a life of crime on the French Riviera, until the
law catches up with them.
Krebitz, primarily an
actress with more than sixty credits, doesn’t have a particularly satirical
eye. At a certain point, she – and we – forget that her protagonist is an
actress with a keen awareness of cliché, including the relationship in which Anna finds herself. There is some enjoyment
in seeing an older woman find pleasure with a younger man, but at no point is
the source of Adrian’s delinquency dealt with.
The film begins with
Anna behind glass being instructed by a French policeman (Nicolas Bridet) to pick
out a man in an identity parade. Each of the men holds up a letter, the five
vowels of the title. (Would not a better English title have been Vowel Play?)
The men in the parade re-order themselves in alphabetical order – cue mild
chuckles from the audience. Anna struggles to pick one of them out. Krebitz’s
inserts a shot of Anna and a young man making love. Fantasy or something else?
At first, we think
this parade is connected to a crime committed in the next scene, in which Anna
has her handbag snatched. A young couple (Lilith Stangenberg and Adrian
Lemande) pursue the man, who is in fact the bespectacled Adrian. After a
vigorous chase, he is cornered in an alley. The young woman asks Adrian to
throw the bag. Her partner appears behind her. Adrian complies. ‘Now, get lost,’
the young woman tells him. Anna is pleased to get her bag back, though her
purse is gone, as she commiserates with her landlord, Michel (Udo Kier). We
next see her in a dubbing theatre, working next to a man her age. They are recording
a scene of ripening passion. The first take is a little stiff. The director
asks the two actors to try again. When the male actor puts his hand on Anna’s
knee, she is appalled, complains that he is perverted and abandons the microphone.
Her outrage is a source of laughter.
Anna is asked by her
agent to help a young man from a disadvantaged background with his speech.
Initially reluctant – she does not consider herself a teacher – she agrees. Later,
Adrian arrives at her Berlin apartment building, helpfully directed by Michel
as he climbs the stairs.
The first session
goes surprisingly well. Anna throws herself into pronunciation, beginning with
‘Aha’. It is clear that giving instruction brings her to life, rather like an
ageing choreographer coaxing a young ballerina into dancing Swan Lake. Only
Adrian has to perform a few lines. At one point, Anna crooks her arm as if
holding an imaginary bow just before releasing an arrow. She encourages Adrian
to do the same. Two hours pass very quickly, as noted first in Anna’s voiceover
and then in dialogue. At no point is the bag theft discussed. Adrian recognises
Anna, but she does not remember him.
In rehearsal, Adrian
holds out his arm, palm raised in a ‘stop’ gesture. It is one of the positions
that Anna taught him. Adrian’s director asks him to maintain the gesture (‘it’s
powerful’) and asks him to say his lines. Adrian does so and stammers. The
actors around him laugh. The director is nevertheless impressed; Adrian is
making progress.
Before long, Adrian
is bold enough to ask Anna to make him some soup and admires her legs (The Graduate-style) as he reaches for something on a
shelf. Arriving for further session, Adrian has his arms across his chest,
concealing his hands inside his jacket. Once in Anna’s apartment, he releases
two doves. Krebitz shows us this in slow motion and sets it to syrupy music. The
birds flutter around the room. Anna and Adrian crane their heads upwards. This
is Adrian’s grand romantic gesture, though of course not very practical – birds
need to be fed. (Later, we see that Anna has acquired a cage.)
Adrian’s performance
– as watched by Anna and Michel – goes well. It is one of those experimental,
didactic shows where young cast members hold up placards. Adrian’s speech
appears to break convention, aimed directly at the audience. Krebitz doesn’t
satirise the earnestness of the production, but it feels like the kind of work
that gives theatre a bad name.
Her job done, there
is no reason for Anna and Adrian to meet. At a certain point, he disappears.
Anna is worried about his exam results, whether he will be able to go to
university. She visits his school and enquires about his whereabouts.
Eventually, she finds him on some steps, smoking outdoors with two other young
men. She embarrasses him with a speech expressing how she knows things are hard
for him. Adrian stands up and spits in her face. She does not berate him for
this.
It isn’t long before
he is outside her apartment building shouting her name. The spitting incident
behind them, Adrian buys (or steals) Anna a new handbag that they admire in a
shop window – he cannot bear to look at the old one; of course, it reminds him
of his crime. Then he decides to take her on a railway journey. They end up in
the South of France. ‘Oh, look, a casino,’ Anna says excitedly as they look out
onto a beach. They check into a hotel, then enjoy a snack at a café. Anna reads a newspaper. Adrian takes it
from her and cuts two holes, demonstrating that he can watch what is going on
while having the paper in front of his face. Before long, they are both in the
street wearing masks made of newspaper, stealing young women’s purses. Crime at
its most romantic is, of course, still crime.
After the previous
day’s thievery, Adrian awakens early and goes out for a walk, stealing a young
woman’s jewellery case as she checks out of a hotel. However, he is unable to
open it. Taking an elevator to the fifth floor and entering a hotel room,
swiping a coffee pot on the way, he drops the case from the balcony. It bursts
open. He then makes his way downstairs and collects up the case’s contents. A
young blonde-haired woman stares but doesn’t stop him. Adrian returns to his
hotel room with coffee, croissants and a necklace for Anna. She doesn’t ask
where he got it.
In the film’s
climax, Anna tries to take Adrian with her into a casino. Only he is too young.
She is offered a place – and some chips – at the roulette table. Her necklace
attracts attention. A man sidles next to her and tells her in English that she
is under arrest. Adrian watches from a distance as she is taken away in a
police van. He returns to their hotel and sees police outside. He sleeps near
the beach and is moved on the next morning by the local gendarmerie. Under
interrogation, Anna claims to know nothing about the young man who brought her
jewellery. He is however part of the identity parade. Anna feigns being unable
to pick him out.
Returning to Berlin,
Anna is consoled by Michel. There is, however, a happy ending.
The film’s best
scene occurs early on when Anna hands Adrian a video tape to watch. In it, a
younger Anna is interviewed by two middle-aged men, both smoking, who
compliment her on her looks. Anna objects vociferously. Were she a male actor,
the interviewer would not comment on her appearance. They argue. Adrian doesn’t
watch the whole of the interview but instead asks why Anna showed it to him.
Anna doesn’t want to be admired for her looks, which have faded a little – she
is thin and lithe, though her face is gaunt. Adrian also enquires about Anna’s
husband. ‘He hung himself,’ she explains, gesturing to the room where she
discovered him. The scene illustrates
Anna’s melancholy; life being outside her control. Anna is also the type of
woman who has a large black and white photograph of her younger self on the
wall; this (unfortunately) put me in mind of Stardust Memories,
with a wall used to display a large photograph of the ‘My Lai’ massacre.
As other reviewers
have noted, ‘A’ is the main vowel under consideration, with its connotation with
the expression of orgasm. ‘E’ reflects the film’s energy. ‘I’, the occasional
narration, ‘O’ the response when Anna throws something out of her window that
ends up in her landlord’s garden. ‘U’ is the feeling of being underwhelmed.
Noting that Maren Ade was one of the film’s producers, I would rather watch a
follow-up to Ade’s film, Toni
Erdmann. Alas, this is not on
the horizon.
Reviewed at
Edinburgh International Film Festival, Tuesday 16 August 2022, Filmhouse Screen
3, 14:00 screening
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