"I Am Guilty" ("Falscher Bekenner") is all about feeling. To be more precise, it´s about the inability to feel. Armin is a young German man who doesn´t seem to feel anything. Nothing when he is the center of attention in a public bathroom with a group of motorcyclists. Nothing when he goes from one job interview to another unprepared. Nothing when his parents are constantly on his back. Just about the only thing that does catch his eye is a car accident he happens upon one night. For some freakish reason, he takes what appears to be a weapon from the scene…and confesses to the crime.
The most striking aspect of this movie is the portrayal of completely disaffected (or perhaps more accurately disinterested) youth in the world. Armin exemplifies all the qualities so-called experts have associated with American youth through the years: uncaring, uninspired, lackadaisical, moody, alienated. Had it ever occurred to anyone these were not uniquely American qualities? That young people around the world looked at their surroundings and said, "So what?" "I Am Guilty" takes that stance, rather successfully.
Armin shows the most emotion throughout the film when he is arrested in the closing minutes. He smiles. It´s not an "I did it" smile or a mischievous one; it looks as though he is a person who is at last happy with where he is in life. It is hard to understand how any person can get to that point. After all, isn´t civilized society supposed to be happy and upbeat all the time, optimistic about the chances in front of it?
Well, not in Armin´s world. During one interview, he is told he isn´t good enough for the job. He goes into the next one not having done any research or thought for the position. Why? Because he doesn´t want it. He lives for his parents, doing what they want him to do and listening to their incessant complaining from start to finish.
The thing he seems most obsessed with is America, particularly American culture. An early pan of his room shows sketches of American automobiles, pictures of American space shuttles and several "Star Wars" action figures on a shelf. Is this what he is looking for, trying to find in his own world? Does his world view, like so many other people´s, come from mass entertainment? It is entirely possible. Armin is constantly the center of attention for everyone in this movie, yet he´s never truly happy.
Writer/director Christoph Hochhausler doesn´t quite get to the root of where this feeling comes from in the film, though he touches on it in the Director´s Statement extra feature. In a world where movies are expected to give answers to the questions of life, having one let its question fester with the audience for 87 minutes is a novel approach. Does Armin just want to feel important? Is he crying out for help? Is everything in the film an exaggeration of his real life and, thus, not the way we see it on screen?
Obviously, there are more questions presented than answers. That isn´t a problem. Too often we get hung up on the end result as opposed to why things happen. The answer isn´t to lock Armin up; the answer is to get through to him in some way that actually matters. "I Am Guilty" is as much an indictment on the disinterested youth as it is on the system and the elders who have let them down.
The most striking aspect of this movie is the portrayal of completely disaffected (or perhaps more accurately disinterested) youth in the world. Armin exemplifies all the qualities so-called experts have associated with American youth through the years: uncaring, uninspired, lackadaisical, moody, alienated. Had it ever occurred to anyone these were not uniquely American qualities? That young people around the world looked at their surroundings and said, "So what?" "I Am Guilty" takes that stance, rather successfully.
Armin shows the most emotion throughout the film when he is arrested in the closing minutes. He smiles. It´s not an "I did it" smile or a mischievous one; it looks as though he is a person who is at last happy with where he is in life. It is hard to understand how any person can get to that point. After all, isn´t civilized society supposed to be happy and upbeat all the time, optimistic about the chances in front of it?
Well, not in Armin´s world. During one interview, he is told he isn´t good enough for the job. He goes into the next one not having done any research or thought for the position. Why? Because he doesn´t want it. He lives for his parents, doing what they want him to do and listening to their incessant complaining from start to finish.
The thing he seems most obsessed with is America, particularly American culture. An early pan of his room shows sketches of American automobiles, pictures of American space shuttles and several "Star Wars" action figures on a shelf. Is this what he is looking for, trying to find in his own world? Does his world view, like so many other people´s, come from mass entertainment? It is entirely possible. Armin is constantly the center of attention for everyone in this movie, yet he´s never truly happy.
Writer/director Christoph Hochhausler doesn´t quite get to the root of where this feeling comes from in the film, though he touches on it in the Director´s Statement extra feature. In a world where movies are expected to give answers to the questions of life, having one let its question fester with the audience for 87 minutes is a novel approach. Does Armin just want to feel important? Is he crying out for help? Is everything in the film an exaggeration of his real life and, thus, not the way we see it on screen?
Obviously, there are more questions presented than answers. That isn´t a problem. Too often we get hung up on the end result as opposed to why things happen. The answer isn´t to lock Armin up; the answer is to get through to him in some way that actually matters. "I Am Guilty" is as much an indictment on the disinterested youth as it is on the system and the elders who have let them down.
"I Am Guilty" ("Falscher Bekenner") is all about feeling. To be more precise, it´s about the inability to feel. Armin is a young German man who doesn´t seem to feel anything. Nothing when he is the center of attention in a public bathroom with a group of motorcyclists. Nothing when he goes from one job interview to another unprepared. Nothing when his parents are constantly on his back. Just about the only thing that does catch his eye is a car accident he happens upon one night. For some freakish reason, he takes what appears to be a weapon from the scene…and confesses to the crime.
The most striking aspect of this movie is the portrayal of completely disaffected (or perhaps more accurately disinterested) youth in the world. Armin exemplifies all the qualities so-called experts have associated with American youth through the years: uncaring, uninspired, lackadaisical, moody, alienated. Had it ever occurred to anyone these were not uniquely American qualities? That young people around the world looked at their surroundings and said, "So what?" "I Am Guilty" takes that stance, rather successfully.
Armin shows the most emotion throughout the film when he is arrested in the closing minutes. He smiles. It´s not an "I did it" smile or a mischievous one; it looks as though he is a person who is at last happy with where he is in life. It is hard to understand how any person can get to that point. After all, isn´t civilized society supposed to be happy and upbeat all the time, optimistic about the chances in front of it?
Well, not in Armin´s world. During one interview, he is told he isn´t good enough for the job. He goes into the next one not having done any research or thought for the position. Why? Because he doesn´t want it. He lives for his parents, doing what they want him to do and listening to their incessant complaining from start to finish.
The thing he seems most obsessed with is America, particularly American culture. An early pan of his room shows sketches of American automobiles, pictures of American space shuttles and several "Star Wars" action figures on a shelf. Is this what he is looking for, trying to find in his own world? Does his world view, like so many other people´s, come from mass entertainment? It is entirely possible. Armin is constantly the center of attention for everyone in this movie, yet he´s never truly happy.
Writer/director Christoph Hochhausler doesn´t quite get to the root of where this feeling comes from in the film, though he touches on it in the Director´s Statement extra feature. In a world where movies are expected to give answers to the questions of life, having one let its question fester with the audience for 87 minutes is a novel approach. Does Armin just want to feel important? Is he crying out for help? Is everything in the film an exaggeration of his real life and, thus, not the way we see it on screen?
Obviously, there are more questions presented than answers. That isn´t a problem. Too often we get hung up on the end result as opposed to why things happen. The answer isn´t to lock Armin up; the answer is to get through to him in some way that actually matters. "I Am Guilty" is as much an indictment on the disinterested youth as it is on the system and the elders who have let them down.
The most striking aspect of this movie is the portrayal of completely disaffected (or perhaps more accurately disinterested) youth in the world. Armin exemplifies all the qualities so-called experts have associated with American youth through the years: uncaring, uninspired, lackadaisical, moody, alienated. Had it ever occurred to anyone these were not uniquely American qualities? That young people around the world looked at their surroundings and said, "So what?" "I Am Guilty" takes that stance, rather successfully.
Armin shows the most emotion throughout the film when he is arrested in the closing minutes. He smiles. It´s not an "I did it" smile or a mischievous one; it looks as though he is a person who is at last happy with where he is in life. It is hard to understand how any person can get to that point. After all, isn´t civilized society supposed to be happy and upbeat all the time, optimistic about the chances in front of it?
Well, not in Armin´s world. During one interview, he is told he isn´t good enough for the job. He goes into the next one not having done any research or thought for the position. Why? Because he doesn´t want it. He lives for his parents, doing what they want him to do and listening to their incessant complaining from start to finish.
The thing he seems most obsessed with is America, particularly American culture. An early pan of his room shows sketches of American automobiles, pictures of American space shuttles and several "Star Wars" action figures on a shelf. Is this what he is looking for, trying to find in his own world? Does his world view, like so many other people´s, come from mass entertainment? It is entirely possible. Armin is constantly the center of attention for everyone in this movie, yet he´s never truly happy.
Writer/director Christoph Hochhausler doesn´t quite get to the root of where this feeling comes from in the film, though he touches on it in the Director´s Statement extra feature. In a world where movies are expected to give answers to the questions of life, having one let its question fester with the audience for 87 minutes is a novel approach. Does Armin just want to feel important? Is he crying out for help? Is everything in the film an exaggeration of his real life and, thus, not the way we see it on screen?
Obviously, there are more questions presented than answers. That isn´t a problem. Too often we get hung up on the end result as opposed to why things happen. The answer isn´t to lock Armin up; the answer is to get through to him in some way that actually matters. "I Am Guilty" is as much an indictment on the disinterested youth as it is on the system and the elders who have let them down.
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