12 Explosions
In the sound-chapter of his Theory of Film, Siegfried Kracauer writes: "Supposing shrill screams or the blasts of an explosion are synchronized with images of their source and/or its environment: much as they will leave their imprint on the spectator´s mind, it is unlikely that they will prevent him from taking in the images...."
Johann Lurf has made a film that refutes this assumption in six minutes.
12 Explosionen shows a series of tableaus filmed in Vienna at night. Before the big bangs occur, the locations selected for them resemble crime scenes: There are shots of dimly lit footpaths, deserted parking lots, a pedestrian bridge made of steel, all with a central perspective. These places are virtually waiting for something to happen. And because of the film´s title we know that something will.
After a brief period of quiet, something blows up at each one, and the sound is accompanied by a simultaneous cut to the same scene from a different angle.
But these cuts escape our attention: We are far too distracted by the light and, more importantly, sound of the explosion in a public space.
And it might be that the title is merely a ruse: How many explosions are there in all? How many do we hear, and how many are shown?
12 Explosionen is a fine little study of perception by a filmmaker with a sense of humor who simply wanted to try out what interests him about cinema. Precisely crafted, and nothing like it has been seen before: This is what experimental film should be like.
(Maya McKechneay)
Translation: Steve Wilder
Twelve times Johann Lurf sets off firework in the nocturnal streets: cheerful images without words, a cinematic outline without beginning or end, entirely left to the passing of time and its fears, moments of happiness and outbursts - for the film to be found one day at a flea market and be discovered as explosive anonymous found footage of an explosive time.
(Viennale Catalog, 2008)
[...] Also playing around with expectations in a knife-sharp, intelligent way is 12 Explosionen by Johann Lurf. He shot 12 locations where something is going to happen: right, there will be some explosion! But before the big bang occurs, we need to be patient, watch the night scenes in Vienna and then bang! But Lurf is playing around with the audience: if you have the chance to see it twice, you will find something interesting mentioned: are there really twelve of them? Is every explosion we see accompanied by the corresponding sound? And if we hear a sound, do we really see an explosion? Emotions get confused during these six minutes (yes, really six minutes) and, if you ever wanted to find yourself giggling while watching a blasting bridge, this is your chance.
(Claudia Siefen in Senses of Cinema)
Falter 06/09 - Der beste Drehort der Welt der Woche: Das Schottentor (Critique)
schottentor schottentorschottentor
So richtig beeindruckt einen der Ort vielleicht erst in der Gesamtansicht im Kino. Wenn einer die Kamera nimmt und um vier Uhr morgens vom Dach der Universität herunter filmt. So wie Johann Lurf in seinem experimentellen Kurzfilm 12 Explosionen. Dann zeigt das Jonasreindl seine Eleganz. In Lurfs Film, der gerade auf dem Filmfestival Rotterdam seine internationale Premiere feierte, wird in der Passage ein Sprengsatz gezündet. Ein Knall, etwas Rauch und von oben sieht man eine flatternde Wolke von Tauben die aufsteigt aus dem dunklen Kreis. Und in der Mitte unbeeindruckt: Wiens urbanste Wiese.
Ein anderer Regisseur flirtet auf sanftere Weise mit seinem Drehort: Caspar Pfaundlers in Rotterdam uraufgeführter Spielfilm Schottentor spielt über und unter der Erde, in und nahe der Passage mit den kiesgrauen Wänden. Dabei zeigt das Schottentor sein Talent als Location: Die Rolltreppen befördern die Darsteller aus allen Richtungen in die Szene, wahlweise gibt es einen Aufzug aus Glas. Mit seinen Stehcafés und Pizzabäckereien, dem Blumenladen und der Trafik ist das Jonasreindl viele Schauplätze in einem; der ideale Begegnungsort für Pfaundlers Ensemble. Ein Fleck blauer Himmel, Neonlicht, und in den Abendszenen gleitet warm leuchtend der 33er durchs Bild.
Mögen andere ihre Krimis und Historienfilme weiter in kopfsteingepflasterten Gässchen drehen. Das Jonasreindl steht für Wien, wie es wirklich ist: Schmuddlig, abgerockt. Aber zumindest lebendig.
(Erschienen in Falter 6/09)
12 Explosionen
2008
Austria
6 min