berlinale 2015: When the Teddys go to bed...

…There’s not much to complain

about about the world’s premiere queer film award, the Teddys…

I was just hoping

this could be more entertaining.

But may be I was seated too well.

I’m struggling to find any kind of thread

to tie together the LGBT films this year

–  issues, problems, causes –  

but on the whole, the films (and the winners)

seem to be a class above last year’s.

Of course, there were some heavy topics

 (Veronika Lišková’s Czech documentary,

Daniel’s World, on pedophilia)

but in general this year felt like a programme

with agenda.

Last year’s absence of lesbian films

at the Berlinale

prompted a large effort this year

get them visibly into the festival.

That said, there were still

no lesbian winners at this year’s Teddys.

I have to be honest and say

that I caught just a few of the films beforehand,

so my congratulations on them are real,

but reserved.

Best short film went to

Omar Zúñiga Hidalgo’s “San Cristobal”,

a bit of a Chilean Brokeback Mountain tale.

 El hombre Nuevo, by Aldo Garay,

took home the best documentary,

 

a film about a transwoman, despite the confusing title, in Uruguay

and her struggles.

And the best feature,

starring the endlessly lovable Kristin Wiig,

is Sebastián Silva’s Nasty Baby,

a film about a woman who tries

to conceive a child with her gay best friends.

 

All well and neatly packaged.

The night did serve up a bit of fun,

unsurprisingly so in the form of the honorary Teddy’s

for Udo Kier

 

and Rainer Werner Fassbinder.

Udo’s presence would have been enough,

but his self-curated montage of film clips

delightfully begun with his birth…

…his very graphic onscreen birth,

as depicted in Lars von Trier’s Kingdom TV series.

The clips proceeded

to get even better from there

and ended

with a clip of him winking and asking,

 “What would have the Führer thought?”

I for one want that on DVD.

Fassbinder’s award

was accompanied by a splendid performance

by his actress, singer and one-time wife,

Ingrid Caven.

 

I’m not sure if the first fabulous song

was intentionally unintelligible

(German? English? Huh?),

but that’s how I want my chansons

served up

and surviving.

Her kind of beauty can’t be learned…

Giulia Dobre