STB Christoph 2025

„I learned it from my father, as well as from [Cesare] Zavattini: when you direct a movie, you don’t have to have any shame. If you have, you’re ruined.“
– Riccardo Ghione

n/b = nicht bewertet
Zahlen in eckigen Klammern [2] = Wiederholte Sichtung.
Bei deutschen Titeln in Anführungszeichen handelt es sich um eigene Übersetzungen der Originaltitel. Ich behalte mir dieses Recht auch für Filme vor, deren deutsche Verleihtitel ihnen Gewalt antun.
Kommentare zu den jeweiligen Filmen sind eine seltene und spontane Ausnahme, die nicht notwendigerweise eine über- oder unterdurchschnittliche Wertschätzung meinerseits artikuliert.
Wenn Sie in diesem Sehtagebuch nach etwas Bestimmtem suchen sollten, drücken Sie Strg + F und geben Ihren Suchbegriff ein.
Meine Sehtagebücher 2024 2023 2022 2021 2020 2019 2018 2017 (2/2) 2017 (1/2) 2016 2015 2014 2013 2012 2011 2010 2009 2008

[K] = Kurzfilm
[E] = Fernsehserien-Episode
* In deutscher Synchronfassung
** In englischer Synchronfassung
Ist kein Sternchen vorhanden, wurde die Originalfassung gesichtet.

MÁJA

13.05.2025
Quel pomeriggio maledetto / Stacco
(Mario Siciliano, Italien 1977) – DVD – 9/10 (23) [gekürzte Fassung]

12.05.2025
Malavita / „Unterwelt“
(Rate Furlan, Italien 1951) – VHS – 6.5/10 (18) [gekürzte Fassung]

10.05.2025
鉄男 / Tetsuo: The Iron Man [2]
(Shin’ya Tsukamoto, Japan 1989) – Kino (DCP) – 7/10 (20)
The Act of Seeing With One’s Own Eyes [K]
(Stan Brakhage, Kanada 1972) – Kino (DCP) – 8/10 (21)

08.05.2025
No alla violenza / „Nein zur Gewalt“
(Tano Cimarosa, Italien 1977) – DVD – 8/10 (21) [gekürzte Fassung]

07.05.2025
Asphalt
(Harald Röbbeling, Österreich 1951) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)
La casa delle mele mature / „Das Haus der reifen Äpfel“
(Pino Tosini, Angelo Pannacciò, Italien 1971) – VHS – 7/10 (20) [falsches Bildformat]

06.05.2025
Corri come il vento Kiko / „Kiko – Lauf wie der Wind“
(Sergio Bergonzelli, Italien 1983) – VHS – 9/10 (23) [falsches Bildformat]
Already nearing the end of bis career, Bergonzelli here delivers his late contribution to the „Lacrima“ filone and it’s A LOT crazier than I expected. As usual with uncle Sergio, the film is all over the place from minute 1, deliriously meandering between an almost childlike enthusiasm for what’s on screen and a determination to take everything, both the good and bad, the funny and the tragic, to the most comically extreme that ultimately borders on the psychotic. Whoever has seen a Bergonzelli film in the past would recognise his most conspicuous trademarks immediately, from the obscenely pulsating shots of Siena’s dome and palazzi in the beginning (see the opening of the not so family-friendly DANIELA MINI-SLIP for reference) to the otherworldly flashback scenes filmed through his beloved caleidoscope lense (see practically ANY Bergonzelli film, but do yourself a favour and make it CRISTIANA MONACA INDEMONIATA, LA SPOSINA or PORCO MONDO), the stilistic choices already announce the mad Piemontese director at the helm (he also plays a judge on screen), but as usual, there’s a lot more: There’s Silvia Monaco, the most strangely robotic and yet scarily brisk child actress dressed in the most inappropriately glamourous adult women’s outfits. There’s Richard Harrison as her suffering father in that role you did not expect him to play late in his Italian phase, proving that he was certainly not born for drama, but heartbreakingly committed when asked for it. There’s a neverending flood of the most delightfully cheesy synth tunes and an Oliver Onions kind of title song playing ad nauseum. There’s the most impressionist documentation of Siena’s famous palio probably ever seen in a feature film (because if you can grab and use lots of footage of it, you totally should!), there’s intrigue around corruption behind the scenes of that event (of course just brushed upon here and there, because there’s so much else going on!), there’s the drama of a stepmother who seeks her stepdaughter’s acceptance and is kept at a distance by the shadow of the deceased real mother (of course just brushed upon here and there, because there’s so much else going on!), there’s the guilt-ridden traitor (named Barrabas and played by Bergonzelli regular Alfredo D’Ippolito, oh my!) who at some point sets the money he was bribed with on fire (!), there’s a heroic fight for patrimony and honor (of course just brushed upon briefly, because… well, you know by now) and there are the most religious and most dramatic assemblies around the bed of the dying kid ever to be found in any Lacrima movie, at some point including almost ten people and the titular horse! Yes, I kid you not. Highly recommended to lovers of undeclared and inexplicably forgotten cinematic weirdness. I guarantee that this is unlike any family movie you have ever seen before, and don’t worry too much about the kid – Bergonzelli’s cinema is, quite reliably so, truly a cinema of wonders and miracles…

05.05.2025
Emma, puertas oscuras / „Emma, dunkle Türen“
(José Ramón Larraz, Spanien 1974) – HD – 9/10 (22)
Yet another impressive proof that Larraz‘ hands can turn anything into gold. His own script for EMMA, PUERTAS OSCURAS is somewhat sketchy, the acting leaves a lot to be desired and the film probably cost very little overall, but what stayed with me is a sensation of pitch-black darkness, both in visual and narrative terms: an ensemble of characters which are all in transactional relationships with each other and either mentally unstable or sociopaths with the titular protagonist being particularly devoid of empathy – and a feeling of complete isolation from the world outside of the claustrophobic (the Keane’s apartment and cottage in the first half of the film) and labyrinthine (the abandoned hotel in the second half) spaces the film inhabits with a craftsmanship and an almost somnambulan sense for atmosphere, suspense, timing and space that would give most other Spanish horror directors of the era a run for their money. Here, in places where other contemporaries would pile up explanatory dialogues, there are just the footsteps of somebody walking around in a dark, eerily quiet building at night. When the policemen arrive at the hotel in the end, Emma stares at them absentmindedly through a window – just glass is separating them and yet, they are truly worlds apart. All of a sudden, the idea of getting locked away does not seem to terrify Emma anymore the way it used to do before – or she has, by now, reached a new stage of mental detachment and will stay in the hotel forever, even if her body is carried somewhere else. It is a fantastic final image, very ambiguous, both disquieting and melancholy, maybe even a tad too classy for the compelling, but uneven film it’s attached to. It’s quite likely that this was shot shortly before SYMPTOMS and VAMPYRES (with which it seems to share some of the British exteriors) and it feels indeed like a somewhat rougher little sibling of these two films. I’m definitely going to revisit this film at some point – it has that special something, and a few scenes are genuinely, nerve-rackingly creepy.

04.05.2025
Blue Velvet [2]
(David Lynch, USA 1986) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)
Kyle MacLachlan and Laura Dern falling in love over shared curiosity and their zest to pursue that curiosity is peak cuteness, of course, but I kind of resented the fact that Isabella Rossellini’s character and her fate somehow end up amounting to a giant kink shaming lecture, rather than sincere melodrama. Still, rewatching this on the big screen projected from 35mm was great fun.

02.05.2025
Necronomicon – Geträumte Sünden [2]
(Jesús Franco, BRD 1967) – Kino (35mm)** – 9/10 (23) [US-Fassung/falsches Bildformat]
More or less the entirety of the film’s first reel consists of Janine Reynaud performing: First on a night club stage for an audience (THE iconic introduction of any Franco heroine), followed by an after work striptease in her apartment in front of her boyfriend. In Francoland, however, the former quite necessarily has more significance: only an articulation of a desire that goes beyond our physical and moral capacities (as implied by the typically Sadean setup on the stage) and invents a new self transcends the mundanity that may befall even our sexuality into a state of being worthy of the camera’s attention. Franco is still paying tribute to what he believes to be his audience’s or producer’s requirements, but soon, even that is going to slowly phase out, and it’s all for the better because there’s still too much restraint and crowd-pleasing here, even if, along with MISS MUERTE, this is one of the first Franco films where the somnambulant triumphs over the narrative.



APRÍL

30.04.2025
Beffe, licenzie et amori del Decamerone segreto /
„Streiche, Ausschweifungen und Liebschaften des geheimen Decamerone“
(Giuseppe Vari, Italien 1972) – DVD – 8/10 (21)
The Decamerotico is probably never going to be my favourite area on the map of erotic Italian cinema, but much to my surprise, Giuseppe Vari – a director I hold in great esteem but did not think all too fit to direct comedies – fares quite well here at finding the visual side of the gags the script presents him with, and the cast seems to be having fun, too. Whether you’ll like it probably depends on how funny you find bizarre shenanigans to lure away unsuspecting husbands from their horny wifes and sexually frustrated nuns out of their chastity, but I had a fairly good time.

29.04.2025
125 rue Montmartre / Tatort Paris
(Gilles Grangier, Frankreich 1959) – Kino (35mm)* – 7/10 (19)
Il romanzo di un giovane povero / „Der Roman eines armen Jungen“
(Cesare Canevari, Italien 1974) – VHS – 5/10 (16) [falsches Bildformat]
Cesare Canevari, a filmmaker who made a virtue of turning avarice, paranoia, lust, nihilism and fear into veracious genre films set in feverish dreamscapes, here attempts the one thing I did never want to see him doing: conventional quality cinema, based on a canonical literary source, in a period setting, more or less devoid of any extremes (except for the obscenely sticky piano and synthesizer melodies by Gianfranco Reverberi the film is completely drenched in), a film „per tutti“ which, after removing a few frivolous lines of dialogue, could have played in cinemas 20 years earlier without upsetting anyone. There is, of course, lots of timely anti-bourgeois irony to be found in the film’s wittier moments (comedy – unfortunately mostly provided by elusive supporting characters – is where the film comes to life) and Canevari once again touches upon class and race (two topics frequently present in his other films) in passing, but overall, the melodrama at IL ROMANZO DI UN GIOVANE Povero’s core seems quite banal and for much of its runtime, it’s an intrinsically dull affair, hardly ever rising much farther than pure professionalism and craftsmanship which in this case of course means that we are still talking about a perfectly entertaining film, but while all other Canevari films have left moments, images and mood imprinted in my memory, I feel that this film will fade away silently.

25.04.2025
Emanuelle – Perché violenza alle donne? /
Emanuela – Alle Lüste dieser Welt [2]
(Joe D’Amato, Italien 1977) – Kino (35mm)* – 9/10 (22)
[gekürzte Fassung/braunstichige Kopie]
The German dubbing which made me crack up constantly when I first saw the film on VHS about 10 years ago proved quite grating this time around (I accepted it because I really really wanted to see the the 35mm print that was playing nearby – for me, nothing beats seeing a D’Amato or Franco film projected from film), a prime example of the people in charge of the dialogue not taking the film in question seriously the least bit and believing that dim-witted shit talk and a doubling of lines whenever the camera doesn’t see the actors‘ lips are messing about needed to „improve“ upon a film which, of course, does not need much improvement because Maria Pia Fusco’s tight script, the spectacular production values (by D’Amato standards), the gorgeous cinematography, Vincenzo Tommasi’s dynamic editing and Nico Fidenco’s music make sure enough that there’s never going to be the slightest bit of boredom here, not even in the customary filler scenes (a bit short here for my taste.)
As a matter of fact, it can compete quite well with the somewhat canonical previous installment of the series. The feminist undercurrent seems to be much more pronounced here than in the previous films but the truly breathtaking vulgarity of the German dialogue does its best to do away with any of that, so my final judgement will have to wait for a third viewing, this time of the uncut Italian version (the print I saw was missing around 20 Minutes.)

23.04.2025
Ercole l’invincibile / Der größte Sieg des Herkules
(Alvaro Mancori, Italien 1964) – DVD – 8/10 (21)
If you get just one shot at the peplum, you simply have to throw it all in: saving damsels in distress from lions and elephants and being offered marriage in return, following the oracle of an old female shaman, fighting dragons and soldiers with white pigtails, traveling with a cowardly sidekick to the mysterious, volcanic lair of an evil queen who governs a tribe of cannibals and… well, there’s a lot more. Luckily, Mancori seems to have learned quite a lot from the directors he served as a DOP prior to this film and manages to competently blend his many ingredients into a highly entertaining, handsomely photographed and profoundly charming film which even survives Dan Vadis‘ poorly glued on beard. A peplum I’d even recommend to those not too keen on the genre – it flies by quite quickly and if you can’t appreciate that scene with the bear and the honey, cinema might be lost on you altogether.

22.04.2025
Playgirl ’70
(Federico Chentrens, Italien 1969) – DVD – 6/10 (18)
„This is not a question of heart or brains, but of uterus“ is one of many carelessly cynical bon mots the script keeps firing at us through the mouth of Luciana Paluzzi’s socialite Luisa. However, the film unexpectedly doesn’t quite follow this motto.
Instead, we are witnesses to a rather chaste starring vehicle for the spectacular looking but spectacularly uncharismatic Ira von Fürstenberg, one of THE European It girls of her time. The film does its best to wrap her in as many stylish outfits as possible and put her into as many „modern“ situations as possible to justify this constant changing of costumes somehow (with a risible „happening“ where she’s donning a gipsy dress and a black wig as the peak of tastelessness), and you’re better off watching this fluffy little film for all this eye candy, accompanied by Piero Piccioni’s creamy lounge score, because those are the most sensible reasons to watch PLAYGIRL 70. It’s really quite impossible to take much of an interest in von Fürstenberg’s Jane – in spite of the scripts half-hearted (and rather catholic) attempts to draw her as a tragic figure who seeks true love but goes to rack amidst the empty promises and serenity of the jetset, she remains a sterile surface throughout, an alien to the film supposedly devoted to and evolving around her. Indeed, it often rather feels as if the film actually evolved without her and as if she had been placed in it at the very last moment (a possibility which cannot be ruled out, considering the haste with which films were often produced back then.)
Putting this questionable star in the company of character actors such as Venantino Venantini* and José Jasper doesn’t help either. She can’t hold a candle to virtually all the rest of the cast and with the film stubbornly determined to show her off without doing much else, she sadly ends up becoming a rather fleeting and bland non-presence, despite being in almost every shot. Which, in a way, could have served the dramatic premise of the script well, emphasising Jane’s loneliness, but as I wrote before: this is the kind of film you watch for images, texture, places and sound, and while in that respect, it’s a far cry from Radley Metzger’s CAMILLE 2000 or Pasquale Festa Campanile’s SCACCO ALLA REGINA as far as absurdly stylish, Piccioni scored Jetsetploitation (I think we need this term when talking about European late 60s cinema) is concerned, it’s well worth a look if the attractions mentioned above are alluring to you. If you’re looking for a more distinctive Jetsetploitation film starring Ira von Fürstenberg, see Klaus Lemke’s NEGRESCO, made two years earlier and co-starring Gérard Blain.
* Here, Venantini magnificently steals the show as a cheating but lovable rogue photographer and he’s living up to the part so much that you believe he could get into anybody’s pants – call me impressed! Too bad he would soon be condemned to become one of those eternal supporting players…
The One Eyed Soldiers / Il segreto dei soldati di argilla
(John Ainsworth, Luigi Vanzi, GB/US/IT/YU 1966/70) – VHS – 7/10 (20) [italienische Fassung]

19.04.2025
Una spada per Brando / Robin Hood und die Dämonen des Satans
(Alfio Caltabiano, Italien 1970) – VHS – 5/10 (14) [falsches Bildformat]
There’s a scene in the middle of the film in which Furio Meniconi as one of the monks who adopted and raised the titular hero to become a fighter for justice, implores his fellow brothers to save him from the hands of the evil-doing satanic cult by whom Brando has been abducted. It’s as emotional a scene as this helplessly naive spectacle can manage, and yet, it left me quite unmoved, because our hero, Brando, has to be one of the dullest, most flavourless and least charismatic heroes I have ever come across in one of these films and while I have found Riccardo Salvino to be an appealing presence in EMANUELLE IN AMERICA and QUELLI DELLA CALIBRO 38, here he demonstrates that he can’t carry a film as the lead, especially if he depends upon a writer-director who’s all about the action and the spectacle. Sadly, Caltabiano’s enthusiasm for the latter is not matched by his directorial abilities. In spite of all the colorful elements and humorous touches with which his own script could have compensated for the utter lack of character development (and yes, a minimum is required even in a film like this one), UNA SPADA PER BRANDO drags, and quite badly so, because there’s no sense of narrative rhythm, nothing dynamic about the fighting scenes (of which there are many – the dullest sections of the film) which are often filmed almost in silent film fashion, with the camera barely moving beyond the occasional pan or zoom, the editing hardly having anything meaningful to do and a complete disregard for the melodramatic and suspenseful potential of its story. Taking into account Caltabiano’s past as a master of arms in this very genre and the fact that UNA SPADA PER BRANDO was made at a time when cloak and dagger films were practically dead in Italy, you can assume that this was a passion project of sorts, but it doesn’t feel like it at all. Instead, it’s a long sequence of seemingly unrelated scenes wearily and oftentimes even shabbily stitched together (to be fair, the low budget nature of the project has to be considered), few of which I still remember a day later – some comedic moments with the monks, mostly. The Technicolor-Techniscope print the credits promised (but Italian TV did not deliver) might have helped a little, but I don’t see myself watching this a second time even if such a print should surface one day.

18.04.2025
Solitudine / „Einsamkeit“ [K]
(Romano Scavolini, Italien 1966) – DVD – 7/10 (20)

17.04.2025
La badessa di Castro / „Die Äbtissin von Castro“
(Armando Crispino, Italien 1974) – VHS – 9/10 (22) [falsches Bildformat]
One of the best Riccardo Freda films not directed by Riccardo Freda (but gorgeously lensed by one of his preferred directors of photography nevertheless), LA BADESSA DI CASTRO shows less interest in exploring the exploitative possibilities of forbidden passions behind convent walls, rather opting quite earnestly (and suspensefully) for the political within the private instead. Barbara Bouchet delivers a truly impressive performance, surely one of her finest (in fact, I have to confess I did not think her capable of the nuances she displays here) and her face, framed by the veil, is also given substantial space to radiate as a statuesque light in the darkness of the cave-like interiors the film comfortably inhabits, aided by Gabor Pogany’s expressive lightening (I want an uncropped scope version of this film Now! Preferably in the form of a 35mm print on a big screen…) Aesthetically speaking, this could have been made 20 years earlier, but manages admirably to mix its anachronistic classicism with the aforementioned, staunchly anticlerical stance, a mildly feminist undercurrent and yet, of course, some occasional, brief nudity of Ms. Bouchet which probably had to be there as the most obvious concession to contemporary taste – however, here it takes on quite a weight of its own in relation to the narrative, as Elena spends much of her undressed sceentime untouched by hands or other lustful gazes (than that of the camera, either alone or in the strictly amiable presence of her maid, fully becoming herself again once the imprisoning robe is taken off her and her long copper blonde hair breaks free fiercely, spilling over her torso like a lion’s mane. It’s a striking image of female beauty belonging to nobody but the woman wearing it – for herself, in an act of self-preservation, resisting the patriarchal forces she has been surrendered to (her equally resistant, but more opportunistic adversary, played by Ida Galli, gets her hair cut as soon as she reveals it to Capponi’s Bishop, a character who perhaps could have needed some more meat on its bones.) This is the seventh film – out of a total of eight he made between 1966 and 1975 – by Armando Crispino I have seen and at this point, I’m quite certain film history has missed out on an eclectic master filmmaker who was hindered by a film industry that did not trust him and by critics and cinephiles who did not take him seriously. (If you can read Italian, see Claudio Bartolini’s book „Macchie solari – il cinema di Armando Crispino“ for a more extensive case in point.)

16.04.2025
Altrimenti ci arrabbiamo! / Zwei wie Pech und Schwefel [2]
(Marcello Fondato, Italien/Spanien 1974) – Kino (35mm)* – 6.5/10 (18)

13.04.2025
Testa in giù, gambe in aria / „Kopf unten, Beine in der Luft“
(Ugo Novello, Italien 1972) – VHS – 8/10 (20)
Clearly, Ugo Novello and his troupe of character actors – and honestly, just watching Corrado Pani, Marina Malfatti and Piero Vida enjoying their roles would have been reason enough for me to keep watching – were not too interested in the crime plot, which is more a kind of escape from reality for Pani’s Andrea who tries to chase the elusive „professor murderer“ and cracks sarcastic jokes so he won’t have to talk things out with his understandably annoyed girlfriend Malfatti. That „professor murderer“, in the other hand, could have made for a great premise, which makes its underdevelopment and the fact that we are informed about all but one of the murders by the newspapers piling up in Pani’s apartment all the more deplorable – I would have relished seeing some annoying academics gorily butchered, but I guess the film couldn’t bite the hand that fed it this hard, seeing how it probably evolved in a lefty-intellectual ambience. But considering that, it’s surprisingly fun watching Pani slack around the streets of Rome in the ugliest shirt he must’ve ever worn and getting told to shut up while talking at the cinema, it’s fun seeing the wonderful Marina Malfatti (a tried stage actress after all) in a part where she has more to do than showing off her incredible eyes and bosom for once (even though she, uncrowned queen of deep cleavages, does not miss her cue here either – do I detect some self-mockery in that party sequence?) and simply drops her nuisance of a boyfriend at some point to move in with her equally annoying little sister, and there’s an overall sense of laid-back observance and eagerness for comedy which won me over easier than I expected it to in the beginning. It’s the kind of material which could have easily ended up being a burning pain in the ass (artsy urban thirty somethings having their second coming of age, oh my!), but the visible joy of everyone involved, including erstwhile (and last time) director Novello, somehow transforms this into a rather dignified affair. Even if there are some nicely crafted suspenseful moments – a nocturnal scene where Pani catches the eye of a gay professor at a bar and walks the nervous man home, shortly before the latter gets killed stands out as particular disquieting – you’ll want to pass on this one if you’re looking for a stalk’n’slash kind of Giallo. If instead, you – like me – actually love all the mundane, quotidian moments and the humour in, say, Argento’s animal trilogy, you might warm up to TESTA IN GIÙ, GAMBE IN ARIA. While it’s not extravagant in any way, it sure is one of its own kind.

09.04.2025
Mission: Impossible [2]
(Brian De Palma, USA 1996) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)
黃飛鴻 / Once Upon a Time in China
(Tsui Hark, Hongkong 1991) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)

07.04.2025
Paycheck
(John Woo, USA 2003) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)


MAREC

26.03.2025
Face/Off
(John Woo, USA 1997) – Kino (35mm) – 7/10 (20)
鎗火 / The Mission [2]
(Johnnie To, Hongkong 1999) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (23)

22.03.2025
Mission: Impossible 2 / M:i-2 [2]
(John Woo, USA/Deutschland 2000) – Kino (35mm) – 7.5/10 (20)

21.03.2025
Scary Movie [2]
(Keenen Ivory Wayans, USA 2000) – Kino (35mm) – 2/10 (5)
Scream 2 [7]
(Wes Craven, USA 1997) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)

20.03.2025
In the Lost Lands
(Paul W. S. Anderson, Deutschland/Kanada/USA 2024) – Kino (DCP)* – 9/10 (23)

06.03.2025
阿飛正傳 / Days of Being Wild
(Kar-wai Wong, Hongkong 1990) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)
攝氏32度 / Beyond Hypothermia
(Patrick Leung Pak-Kin, Johnnie To, Hongkong 1996) – Kino (35mm) – 10/10 (24)

05.03.2025
少年黃飛鴻之鐵馬騮 / Iron Monkey
(Woo-Ping Yuen, Hongkong 1993) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (23)
秋月 / Autumn Moon
(Clara Law Cheuk-Yiu, Hongkong 1992) – Kino (35mm) – n/a

04.03.2025
Robert et Robert
(Claude Lelouch, USA 1978) – Kino (35mm)* – 9/10 (22)
Rubber Cement [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1976) – Kino (16mm)
Fuji [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1974) – Kino (16mm)
Gulls and Buoys [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1972) – Kino (16mm)
70 [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1970) – Kino (16mm)
69 [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1968) – Kino (16mm)
66 [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1966) – Kino (16mm)
Fist Fight [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1964) – Kino (16mm)
Breathing [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1963) – Kino (16mm)
Blazes [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1961) – Kino (16mm)
Eyewash [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1959) – Kino (16mm)
Jamestown Baloos [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1957) – Kino (16mm)
A Man and His Dog Out for Air [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1960) – Kino (16mm)
Recreation [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1956) – Kino (16mm)
Cats [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1956) – Kino (16mm)
Form Phases IV [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1954) – Kino (16mm)
A miracle [K]
(Robert Breer, USA 1954) – Kino (16mm)

03.03.2025
胭脂扣 / Rouge
(Stanley Kwan Kam-Pang, Hongkong 1988) – Kino (35mm) – 10/10 (24)
方世玉 / Fong Sai Yuk
(Corey Yuen Kwai, Hongkong 1993) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)

02.03.2025
Drugs – my love
(Michael Fuhrmann, BRD 1971) – Kino (35mm) – 10/10 (n/a)
Du und deine Umwelt [K][3]
(Regie: Unbekannt, Schweiz 1975) – Kino (16mm) – 10/10 (24)
Taifun der Zärtlichkeit [2]
(Hubert Frank, BRD/Philippinen 1984) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)
Erotik ohne Worte – Mäander
(Walter Vogel, Österreich 1971) – Kino (35mm) – 6/10 (16)
Die Blonde da oben [K]
(Jane Seitz, BRD 1974) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)
Catherine & Co.
(Michel Boisrond, Frankreich 1975) – Kino (35mm)* – 9/10 (22)*

01.03.2025
Hot Child in the City / Dancing in the City
(John Florea, USA 1987) – Kino (VHS)* – 8/10 (21) [falsches Bildformat]
Anyone but my Husband
(Roberta Findlay, USA 1975) – Kino (35mm) – 5/10 (15)
Exit II – Verklärte Nacht
(Franz Novotny, Österreich 1995) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)
Massacre pour une orgie / Mädchenhandel lohnt sich nicht
(Jean-Pierre Bastid/Neue Filmform, Luxemburg/Frankreich 1966) – Kino (35mm)* – n/a


FEBRUÁR

28.02.2025
11-הדיבר ה / Wovon die Frauen träumen – Der Orgasmologe
(Shlomo Suriano, Israel/BRD 1975) – Kino (35mm)* – 6.5/10 (18) [rotstichige Kopie]
Dir muss er ja nicht gefallen [K][2]
(Franz Stepan, BRD 1979) – Kino (16mm) – 9/10 (22)
La red / Brandung der Leidenschaft [2]
(Emilio Fernández, Mexiko 1953) – Kino (35mm)* – 10/10 (25)
Sometime Sweet Susan
(Fred Donaldson, Harry Reems, USA 1975) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (23)
In Frankfurt sind die Nächte heiß [2]
(Rolf Olsen, Österreich 1966) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21) [gekürzte Fassung]

27.02.2025
Jungfrau aus zweiter Hand
(Ákos von Ráthonyi, Alois Brummer, BRD 1966) – Kino (16mm) – 8/10 (21) [rotstichige Kopie/falsches Bildformat]
Blonde Ambition
(John Amero, Lem Amero, USA 1977/81) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)

26.02.2025
Silhouetten
(Josef von Baky, Österreich 1956) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (23)
Silhouetten
(Walter Reisch, Österreich 1936) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)

23.02.2025
The Monkey
(Osgood Perkins, USA 2024) – Kino (DCP) – 10/10 (24)

12.02.2025
Processo alla città / Das Lied vom Verrat
(Luigi Zampa, Italien 1952) – Kino (35mm) – 8.5/10 (22)

05.02.2025
Le bois dont les rêves sont faits / The Woods Dreams Are Made Of
(Claire Simon, Frankreich/Schweiz 2015) – Kino (DCP) – 9/10 (22)
Quelli del casco / Die Moped-Bande
(Luciano Salce, Italien 1988) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)

03.02.2025
Vediamoci chiaro / Ein Mann sieht klar
(Luciano Salce, Italien 1984) – Kino (35mm) – 7.5/10 (20)

01.02.2025
Bello onesto emigrato Australia sposerebbe compaesana illibata / „Gutaussehender, ehrlicher Auswanderer in Australien sucht unberührte Landsfrau zwecks Heirat“
(Luigi Zampa, Italien/Australien 1971) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)
Frenesia dell’estate / Verrückter Sommer
(Luigi Zampa, Italien/Frankreich 1964) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (23)

JANUÁR

31.01.2025
Gli anni ruggenti / Die goldenen Jahre
(Luigi Zampa, Italien 1962) – Kino (35mm) – 8/10 (21)
Il magistrato / Der Richter
(Luigi Zampa, Italien/Spanien 1959) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)

27.01.2025
कुछ कुछ होता है / Kuch Kuch Hota Mai – Und ganz plötzlich ist es Liebe
(Karan Johar, Indien 1998) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (22)

26.01.2024
Le comte de Monte-Cristo / Der Graf von Monte Christo
(Matthieu Delaporte, Alexandre de La Patellière, Frankreich 2024) – Kino (DCP) – 8/10 (21)

04.01.2025
The Wrong Man / Der falsche Mann [2]
(Alfred Hitchcock, USA 1956) – Kino (35mm) – 9/10 (23)

02.01.2025
The Holy Mountain / Montana Sacra [2]
(Alejandro Jodorowsky, Mexiko/USA 1973) – Kino (Blu-ray)* – 8/10 (21)