Gabriele Mathes<\/strong> stages a family in front of the camera, one wonders where the staging ends and the truth begins. Are these really her siblings, her mother, niece and nephew? Are the memories shared on camera real? The story of the starving pet, flat fur and milky eyes - just a script idea?<\/p>\nSzene 1, Wohnzimmer: W\u00e4hrend die Regisseurin letzte Rollendetails mit den Protagonisten bespricht, wird die Mutter im Hintergrund geschminkt. Sie soll eine alte Frau spielen, die die Tochter zu Hause pflegt. Aber die kann \u2013 laut Drehbuch \u2013 selbst nicht mehr und w\u00fcnscht der Hilfsbed\u00fcrftigen den Tod. Oder, dass sie wenigstens ins Heim kommt. „Ich will doch net ins Heim“, protestiert die Mutter. „Aber im Film ist es halt so“, sagt die Regisseurin streng.<\/p>\n
Szene 2: Im Vordergrund werfen die Kinder mit Lego, im Off h\u00f6rt man die alte Mutter schreien: „Au, auaua! I brauch a Hilfe!!“ Die Tochter schneidet weiter unger\u00fchrt Haare, ihr Mann raucht: „Soll I eini gehen?“ \u2013 „Na, lass\u00b4 a bissi schrein.“<\/p>\n
It is an unspoken convention: families, children and old people are spared in mainstream cinema. Michael Haneke's Funny Games deliberately explodes its violence against a family into this safe assumption. Gabriele Mathes takes a side step. It's true that no one is physically harmed in the Doberman feeling. But just thinking about what it would be like to give free rein to their aggression, to bind and gag their mother so that she doesn't whinge in the bed over there, drives rage and terror into the faces of those involved. And they are undoubtedly genuine.<\/p>\n
(Maya McKechneay)<\/p>\n
A break in filming: the protagonists are making small talk, children are playing, a pug is snorting. The director briefs the mother on the upcoming scene, but she refuses to be bound and gagged. She doesn't understand her daughter's anger, she complains. Whether it is the film character's or her relatives' remains unclear. Just as the rest of the plot resists a clear distinction between play and life. Much has never been properly expressed, it is said. In fact, repressed emotions seem to translate themselves into the film shoot with every glance and every gesture; into a flatness that increasingly suggests anxiety in the ruthlessness of the hand-held camera and natural light. A subtly constructed chamber play about (familial) speechlessness, childhood trauma and sadism.<\/p>\n
(Sebastian H\u00f6glinger, Diagonale-Katalog)<\/p>\n
My mum refused. She doesn't want to be bound, gagged and suffocated. Not even for this film. During the break in filming, Erna and Helmut play a game from my childhood. There can be a murder pit in every heart.<\/p>\n
(Gabriele Mathes)<\/p>\n
In Gef\u00fchl Dobermann, Gabriele Mathes pursues a very unconventional approach to filmmaking: the family was involved in her shoot and learns about the story scene by scene. The fact that her own mother does not necessarily play a nursing case who is gagged in front of the camera is a dialogue in itself.<\/p>\n
(Maria Motter, FM4)<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Konzept & realisation: Gabriele Mathes<\/p>\n
Kamera: Hermann Lewetz, Hanna Huber<\/p>\n
Schnitt: Hermann Lewetz<\/p>\n
Ton: Lisa Weber, David Lewetz<\/p>\n
Musik: Claudia Martini, Klaus Kobald<\/p>\n
Sounddesign: Gabriele Mathes<\/p>\n
Darsteller\/innen: Walter Mathes, Brigitte Sch\u00f6llenberger, Maria Saturn, Josef Wimmer u. a.<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Urauff\u00fchrung: Diagonale 2015<\/p>\n
<\/p>\n
Vertrieb: Sixpackfilm<\/a><\/p>\n <\/p>","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Regie: Gabriele Mathes, AT 2015, DCP, Farbe, 16 min Eine Drehpause: Protagonist\/innen f\u00fchren Smalltalk, es spielen Kinder, ein Mops schnauft. Die Regisseurin brieft die Mutter zur anstehenden Szene, doch diese verweigert Fessel und Knebel. Sie verstehe den Zorn der Tochter nicht, klagt sie. Ob den der Filmfigur oder den der Verwandtschaft, bleibt unklar. […]<\/p>","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[64],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-685","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-filmographie"],"blocksy_meta":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/685","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=685"}],"version-history":[{"count":13,"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/685\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1194,"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/685\/revisions\/1194"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=685"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=685"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/hermann.lewetz.at\/en\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=685"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
![\"\"](\"https:\/\/hermann.jodli.me\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/11\/dobermann_09-300x169.jpg\")
A break in filming: the protagonists are making small talk, children are playing, a pug is snorting. The director briefs the mother on the upcoming scene, but she refuses to be bound and gagged. She doesn't understand her daughter's anger, she complains. Whether it is the film character's or her relatives' remains unclear. Just as the rest of the plot resists a clear distinction between play and life. Much has never been properly expressed, it is said. In fact, repressed emotions seem to translate themselves into the film shoot with every glance and every gesture; into a flatness that increasingly suggests anxiety in the ruthlessness of the hand-held camera and natural light. A subtly constructed chamber play about (familial) speechlessness, childhood trauma and sadism.<\/p>\n