How do you act? At least not like this: A man says goodbye to his beloved, “I will never forget you”, who in turn says: “I still love you” and leaves. This is from a movie that appears in another movie, and that other movie is The Last Tycoon (1976), Elia Kazan's last, based on the novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald and a script by Harold Pinter. Robert De Niro plays the studio boss Monroe Stahr, who can be shown the farewell scene in a small group. Everyone is satisfied, except for Stahr, who is noticeably charged and before whose judgment they tremble. He wants to know who wrote that, and then comes to the point: “I don't care about you” - nobody speaks like that. And he repeats this scrap of dialogue so often that nothing remains of it and even the last one has understoodhow thought-out and absurd it sounds. "Nor do I you", immediately paraphrase this crap.

Edo Reents

Editor in the features section.

  • Follow I follow

    The art of acting lies in letting it go unnoticed or at least appear in such a way that none of it seems learned.

    An effortlessly established presence that is simply evident: therein lies the secret that cannot be further explored.

    Robert De Niro knows how to do it.

    Do local actors know that too?

    "I don't use metaphors"

    Let's take a pan from Hollywood to the German-speaking film landscape and zoom in, closer, closer, even closer: A woman tells a police officer that she has a corpse in the basement. The policeman thinks he's in the know: Isn't that the case for all of us? The woman says: “I don't use metaphors, it just complicates communication.” Claudia Eisinger gives the forensic investigator Dr. Viktoria Wex, an extraordinarily reserved, frosty person who is rarely good to eat cherries with. She plays it with skin and hair, with a concentrated seriousness that is basically not in the mood for jokes,behind which one could of course suspect all kinds of things - a kind of "crime scene" professor Boerne in Seriös, without gossip and complacency. In any case, it is regrettable that the next two episodes, which will be shot in September, will probably not be seen until next May.

    So no metaphors and nothing else that could loosen up the atmosphere of the conversation. “Anyone who speaks in metaphors can shampoo my crotch,” says Jack Nicholson as a neurotic disgusting package who writes trivial novels in “It couldn't be better”. Claudia Eisinger has to laugh when the language comes up. In the afternoon we sit in a beer garden on Berlin's Schlachtensee, enveloped in the intrusive aroma that the linden trees exude. The sun has crawled behind the silvery sky and reduced the heat of the previous days, there is not much going on at this time. Stand-up paddlers balance on their boards in the cloudy olive-green water, children screech on the flat, rubbish gently sloshes against the graffiti-painted sea wall.