No.10 of the Van Warmerdams: great pleasure, until you start dreaming of it

With Orkater, I grew into theatre as a student. In the house here is the DVD box containing Alex van Warmerdam's first seven delightful films, which I still watch regularly, now together with the youngest generation learning and enjoying. Then I smile daily at the spines of his curious books, such as the fine collection of poetry 'I created the world'. I loved his exhibition at Eye in 2018. In short, here ticks a fan of one of this cool country's greatest artists.

So don't expect an objective narrative about No.10, Alex's latest film, which I saw at its premiere last night. And also in Voorschoten, a village below Leiden in a little movie theatre where the whole 70s entourage suited the film sublimely. Champagne beforehand, though, and in the interval homemade cheese biscuits from the governing family. We were seated at the back, i.e. row 7, something like that.

In the pre-screening interview with producer Marc van Warmerdam, recorded for the Netherlands Film Festival: 'We took six years to make the film'. It increases the joy

The film is a feast of recognition, and I would like to write about it without the cliché words 'absurd' and 'bizarre'. And without wasting the plot for upcoming viewers. Just that this morning at 5:30 precisely I woke up from a dream in which my dog disappeared into the black hole. That's what Van Warmerdam's films do, hallucinating a place in your dreams. In his films, you look at worlds that are alienating, yet you become an increasingly intense part of them.

Marius & Günther

No.10 is the worst so far because even the sets are simultaneously as stultifyingly ugly as they are recognisable, with 1970s interiors and cars (though with something like smartphones). Not to mention the downright perfect lighting, again and again, in all scenes; a fine Dutch tradition, which, incidentally, foreign painters like Monet and Liebermann also fell for.

Don't bristle, what is this film about? It's arrogant to write that this doesn't matter that much. But on closer inspection (getver, elitist word) it does: what actually sticks in your mind about a film. Those are mainly fragments, scenes. Van Warmerdam plants them minutely in receptive brains.

Meanwhile, there is an ingenious story, of a repeating modernist theatre company. Isabel (Anniek Pheifer), the wife of director Karl (Hans Kesting), is cheating with counterpart Günter (Tom Dewispelaere). Fellow actor Marius (Pierre Bokma) tells Karl, who then takes revenge on Günther with a role reversal in the play. With the usual woes of life: character weakness, displeasure, revenge and touch of cruelty.

Malle Catholics

A second layer is a subtle game played by a German bishop and his gang, in which Marius' wife is murdered. Why? That doesn't really matter that much, and it's no fun revealing the rest of that second layer. Religion, in this case the Catholicism Van Warmerdam was brought up with, gets its due. With various great details, including a liberating racist joke (don't let the cancel-Stasi hear it).

VW's previous film, Schneider vs. Bax (2015) was an intriguing story, this one to a lesser extent, but no matter. As soon as I saw the headline appearing of Gene Mertens (the character Mertens in Schneider vs Bax) I started looking forward to the horror, but the horror of his murder is not so bad (or bad?). Rather, it's one of those ways of killing that you also think possible for yourself and may have come to mind at times when witnessing great suffering. This is exactly what Van Warmerdam always achieves: that we petty people cannot escape intrigue, not in real life but at least in our dreams.

Enough chatter. For those who enjoyed Van Warmerdam & co's previous films, go see it! With afterwards the great gratitude for the efforts made by the entire cast and crew. Also wonderful that it is allowed again, the green light of the QR code feels like a passed exam. Yes, may enjoy again!

Good to know

Seen: No.10, Alex van Warmerdam and many other diligent workers, Filmtheater Voorschoten, 30 September 2021, still to be seen in entire country

(Photo: Ben van Duin/Granietfilm)