In the latest film from the Coen Brothers, The Ladykillers, we get all the pieces to the puzzle of the heist film. A mastermind devises a plan and assembles his team. We follow them as they plan, prepare, and execute the heist. And all along the way something stands in their way. Sometimes it is lack of trust within the group. Sometimes the cops. Sometimes a little, old, southern woman.

Rainer Werner Fassbinder knew the rules of the heist film. They have been around for most of the cinema's life. Yet in his version of the heist film, 1970s Gods Of The Plague, the rules seems to have all been thrown out. It lacks the planning, the preparing, and in the end it even lacks a good job in the execution.

A good example of this comes in a scene where the “mastermind,” Franz, goes with out to the country to visit a presumed co-conspirator, we are denied access to whatever plotting might have gone on. They show up, wrestle with the sheep, and eat lunch, but when they put their heads together to plan, they walk off. Fassbinder decides not to follow. We do not know the plan. We do not know even if there is a plan. At this point in the film, we have not even been told about the coming heist. What we get is a random, dull scene in the life of a man with a random, dull life.

Franz spends the movie drifting from one woman’s bed to another, all the time with a bored, disinterested gaze. Franz’s way of planning a heist, and Fassbinder way of recording seem as far away as possible from what one expects in the heist film. In contrast the Coen’s film seems downright traditional. A term one does not usually associate with the Coens, but in light of Fassbinder, maybe they are.

Typical plot outline of a heist movie, which Ocean’s Eleven (2001) largely upholds and Götter der Pest largely does not:

1. Assemble motley band of skilled specialists, led by charismatic genius
2. Outline and discuss lucrative job; divvy assignments according to area of expertise
3. Prepare for job--“case the joint”; perform practice runs; bribe appropriate parties; set up distractions and means of escape
4. Accomplish job
5. Escape (or not) with lotsa loot (or not)

Götter der Pest does have a motley crew of two, and they are quite motley, or at least scruffy, but the only “skilled” character involved in the heist is Gunther, the Gorilla, and his skill is being big and strong, and apparently homoerotic and a touch into bestiality. Götter der Pest both upholds and revises the concept of the brilliant, driving force behind the job; Franz is clearly the focus of the film and thinks up a crime, but it seems that he has nothing driving him but simple inertia, much less a blinding brilliance for devising perfect thefts. He does not attempt to convince anyone to help him; utilizes only himself and the Gorilla, who he reunited with by accident; makes no complex yet interlocking covers for the job; does not seem to even care about the heist, but instead keeps to a simple goal--rob the grocery store that his acquaintance manages. And have lots of sex with many girls. And sulk.

The people not partaking in the scheme seem to have everything together, especially in that they seem to be sabotaging the scheme as much as possible. Franz's possessive ex-girlfriend, Johanna, does not seem to have the power to manipulate the corrupt cop, but still manages to accomplish her goals through him. Carla Aulaulu is the contact between the three major forces within the film, Franz, Johanna and the cop, and throws the game by giving information to anyone who gives her money.

Danny Ocean would have anticipated the presence of “neutral” forces such as Carla--in the modern schema, the security systems could be said to take her place. Livingston Dell, the computer and surveillance expert of Ocean’s Eleven, taps into the casino security, allowing the thieves to monitor everything the cameras do and do not see. In this sense, the security system speaks to anyone who knows the right way to access the information. Ocean is basically the epitome of a man heading a heist--he is determined to pull off an extremely profitable job and does what needs to be done to do it; he has access to many sources, “knows everybody” and is obscenely clever--he obtains the layouts, contacts the perfect cons, persuades them to join in, and even gets funding for the whole thing, while using people on the inside.

Franz’s possible contact on the “inside” is a grocery manager, but he does not even attempt to convince the man to help in exchange for a share of the money. Franz instead opts to beat the crap out of a guy who knows him personally and could identify him for the polizei, and ends up getting all of them killed. Not that it would have been much of a prize--a grocery store? But the paltry sum seems to speak more to the theme of apathy, lack of hope, and listlessness that Franz embodies. Ocean’s Eleven is a much more cheerful and hopeful film, and so must have slick action to keep up with its upbeat tone.

"May I be excused? I seem to have the Plague."
--Eddie Izzard

Okay, so, sure, all the elements to call Gods of the Plague a heist film are there: guy gets out of jail and can't help but go back to his same old bad lifestyle and seek out his same old bad buddies. The Usual Suspects guys are also subject to these rules--once a criminal, always a criminal, and try as he might, even Keaton (played by Gabriel Byrne) can't avoid falling back into a gang of 'em. But referencing the rules of the heist genre from Northern Star Online, not only does Fassbinder "revise" the typical Hollywood way of storytelling, he completely denies "the rules."

"Rule No.1: We must be interested in your characters". Interesting, likable characters? Ha! A huge Godard fan, Fassbinder couldn't care less if you hate Franz, and, in fact, invites you to. "Rule No.2: Make sure your 'big score' is a big score." Big score? Ripping off a supermarket isn't gonna fulfill that aspect these days, nor in the '60s and '70s. And in rejecting the "getting to the point" rule ("No.3: Get to the point, doofus!"), Fassbinder completely forgoes the precise-planning, team-playing, sharp-tongued characters found so often in heist films today. To further this rejection, rather than glorifying an already suspenseful movie with an emotion-grabbing score (John Ottman does some beautifully intense music for The Usual Suspects), Fassbinder reiterates just how ridiculous his sullen criminals are by playing that God-awful contrapuntal nonsense song.

Finally, there is, of course, the homosexual aspect. While at first you may want to argue that gimpy Verbal (played by best supporting actor Kevin Spacey) may be a little too "sweet" to be a dangerous criminal, you'd soon find you are simply wrong. It is primarily Fassbinder's angle that "the fellas" aren't always a group of red-blooded, women lovin', John-Wayne-like manly men--as hard or as painful as that is to believe.

death by nonchalance
response by L'OMBRE DU FANTÔME

The stereotypical heist film seems to concentrate on the ideas of loyalty, or lack there of, throughout the criminal world and the attention to detail required in order to commit the "perfect" crime. Fassbinder’s 1970 film Gods of the Plague takes these ideas and turns them on their side…still obeying the "laws" of the genre but at the same time adding to the fine print attached at the bottom of the rule book. There is a constant confusion as to who is actually on whose side throughout the film, this concept not uncommon to the heist film, but the relationships found in the film are extremely sketchy. It is understood that Franz has had a relationship with Johanna but the depth is never examined and eventually she is the cause of his demise. Many characters interact and bring the separate plot lines together but separately it is unclear as to how certain people know certain things. For instance the pornography-selling women seem to know more about the actual heist than the actual criminals even discuss. This ultimate betrayal is a long, drawn out process that at times feels as though it will never end but when it finally does it is quick and painless and the movie is over.

This same endlessness of plot and character relations is found in Jean-Pierre Melville’s 1970 heist film Le Cercle Rouge. The two leading criminals, Corey and Vogel, have no past relationship, in turn allowing for the most obvious account of betrayal to occur, based solely on the fact that they don’t know each other. But being so obvious this can’t be where betrayal comes into play, leaving room for more twists and connections to occur. The film contains so many miniscule characters, which are nameless and tend to look alike, that affect the fate of the heist it is virtually impossible to figure out beforehand who is dealing with whom.

Another major aspect of the typical heist film is the attention to detail of the actual job. Both Gods of the Plague and Le Cercle Rouge handle this in an almost nonchalant manner, never giving details to their plans, even just to themselves, not necessarily other people. It is even only casually referred to in Fassbinder’s film as Margarethe is concerned for Franz and "Gorilla" and briefly tries to talk them out of the plan, saying they can move away, but what good is moving away if you don’t have any money? Though the job of a supermarket robbery is less risky than the jewelry store heist of Melville’s work, one would imagine even the thought of committing a crime should pass a thought of worry through someone’s head. They simply walk up to the store and knock on the window. They act as though they were simply out to buy a carton of milk and decided to rob their friend instead. Even in Le Cercle Rouge one of the men required to make the heist successful isn’t in it for the money, he turns it down in the end and thanks the others for the experience.

It seems that there should be more urgency or rigor attached to the idea of a heist, but these films give it a carefree, whoever, whenever sort of project in turn taking the typical heist rules of detail and loyalty and shaking them up by ultimately doing nothing.





brutality through honesty
response by KING GONDO OF THE SHOE PEOPLE

Götter der Pest is tough to watch. The actions of the characters are often inexplicable. The dialogue is aimless, but it seems to fit the visual and stylistic aesthetic that director Rainer Werner Fassbinder was aiming for. There are long gaps in dialogue, seemingly only meant to emphasize the supposed profundity of what was said. The film contains several long sequences in which nothing of significance happens, including one in which protagonist Franz (Harry Baer) sits and listens to a ridiculous children’s song. On-screen explicit pornography is included in one scene, and the sexually-charged actions of the characters cross into implications of bestiality and homosexuality.

By the way, this is also a heist film.

As strange as it may sound, Götter der Pest manages to contain the key components of the heist film, while simultaneously revising (and sometimes rejecting) these elements. For comparison to this film, I have decided to discuss The Killing, a 1956 heist film by Stanley Kubrick.

Far and away, the most important tenet of the heist film is this—multiple people must try to steal something. In The Killing, a plan involving a sharpshooting horse assassin, a European wrestler, a policeman, and a ticket salesman is hatched, with Johnny Clay (Sterling Hayden) as the ringleader of the operation. In Götter der Pest, the heist involves Franz and his friend The Gorilla. The plan in Kubrick’s film will net the protagonists about $2,000,000. Franz and The Gorilla hope to get away with the register from a supermarket. In this sense, Fassbinder has reduced the “heist film” to its lowest common denominator, where the definition barely applies.

Another clear aspect of the heist film is the “puzzle plan.” Each cohort in the heist must know and execute their part of the plan perfectly. The Killing, a seemingly perfect plan, requires the efforts of close to ten men. Here’s the (abridged) plan—shoot the horse, distract the guards, get in disguise, steal the money, meet at the hideout, and take the money and run if you have any doubts. Fassbinder’s scenario also follows this “puzzle plan,” except this puzzle only has two pieces—Gorilla grabs the clerk, Franz steals the money. With this revision, Fassbinder has made the audience realize the potential simplicity of the genre, while at the same time mocking its often-overblown concepts.
Finally, the heist must fail in some critical way (at least in classical heist), and the characters will complete their tragic downfalls. The Killing has the plan fall apart at the hands of a femme fatale, who blindsides the protagonists with her greedy intentions. The ending of Götter der Pest is much more direct and bleak—the cheap-ass, dislikable main character dies brutally in a supermarket. It isn’t as ironic and brutal as The Killing’s ending, but that was the point: to strip away the ideas of destiny, irony, and perfection so prevalent in noir. The death of Franz isn’t tragic: it’s just honest.

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