Seventy-eight year old German filmmaker Wim Wenders is touching peak form. His latest narrative feature, “Perfect Days,” offers a warm and thoughtful portrayal of an elderly sanitation worker based in Tokyo. As a precursor to its U.S. debut, Wenders rolls out one of his distinctive documentaries on the life and art of Anselm Kiefer, a German artist associated with both controversy and brilliance. Over the last two decades, Wenders has displayed an impressive consistent output with his unique non-fiction filmmaking.
Born a few months before the end of World War II in 1945, Kiefer grew up amidst the wreckage in his heavily bombed hometown of Donauschingen. From a young age, Kiefer demonstrated a profound flair for the arts, initially focusing on concept-based projects over traditional figure painting. His revolutionary body of work is heavily punctuated with Germany's tumultuous twentieth-century history.
Among his initial works, “Heroic Figures,” caused significant stir – a photographic series featuring Kiefer in a Nazi salute across various locations in his homeland. Later, Kiefer moved to large-scale pieces, meditating on the mysticism of fascism and war, burning straw and hair on his enormous canvases. A similar method was used for his handmade books – each page weighty as a couple of bricks – often inspired by the poetic verses of Holocaust survivor Paul Celan. Absorbing Kiefer's work demands patience and an awareness of its ironic defiance, shunning the assumption of fascist propaganda. His reaction to criticism, though, remains intriguingly subtle.
In his documentary, Wenders captures the intimidating aura around Kiefer, filming in 3D. Wenders’ use of this technique in the past has been noteworthy, such as in the vibrant dance film “Pina,” and the eccentric “The Beautiful Days of Aranjuez”. The 3D effect in this documentary brings a tangible depth to Kiefer's installation art. The camera swirls around Kiefer as he cycles through his vast studio, juxtaposing the enormity of his creations with his relatively diminutive figure. His son, Daniel and Wenders’ great-nephew, Anton, play younger versions of Kiefer in reshot sequences.
Kiefer's essence as an artist emerges strongly from the narrative-he grew up in a society whispering lies about their history but he chose to weave art from those truths. Wenders' documentary lacks the inclusion of voices from art critics or personal anecdotes, instead encouraging viewers to formulate their own interpretations. However, one factor that might puzzle viewers is the glaring avoidance of Kiefer's financial life in the narrative. The extensive studios and art installations presumably don't magically manifest from his creative cranial exercises.
The documentary is set to hit selected cinemas today.
