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7/10
Senior Film Conservator
A definitive 7/10 rating for a film that redefined the boundaries of cult cinema. Mieter Schulze gegen alle remains a cornerstone of transgressive art.
Honestly, if you like watching grumpy people bicker in black and white, you’ll have a grand time. If you need explosions or a fast pace, stay far, far away. This is for the folks who find joy in 1930s character actors being absolute pains in the neck to one another.
Paul Henckels plays Schulze like he’s carrying the weight of the entire Berlin housing market on his shoulders. He has this look—you know the one—where he’s squinting at the world like it personally offended his grandfather. It’s perfect.
The whole conflict is so petty it almost circles back to being profound. It’s just rent, noise, and neighborly spite. There’s a scene where he’s trying to fix a piece of furniture that is just... so long. It goes on forever. It’s not funny, then it’s kind of funny, then it’s just sad, then it’s funny again. I think the camera operator got bored, too.
The landlord is the kind of character you love to hate. He’s got that specific kind of smugness that makes you want to reach through the screen and unplug his lamp. The way they argue in the hallways is so stiff, but it feels weirdly real. You can tell they’ve been living next to each other for way too long.
It reminded me a bit of the domestic mess in Days of Youth, just with way less existential dread and way more shouting about broken floorboards. People today seem to have forgotten how to really yell at their neighbors properly.
The movie doesn't try to be deep. It doesn't want to fix the world. It just wants to show you a guy who hates his living situation and decides to do something about it. Sometimes, that’s plenty.
The ending is a bit abrupt. It feels like they ran out of film, or maybe the director just had a dinner reservation. It didn't need a big finish anyway. I think I’ll keep thinking about Schulze’s kitchen table for a while though. It was a nice table.
