IN A GLASS CAGE (Agustí Villaronga - Spain 1987).
This Spanish shocker certainly offers us no warm portrait of humanity, tackling some extreme material involving Nazis and child abuse, that will undoubtedly shock many. It caused massive walk-outs on its initial release in 1987 and, mainly because of the controversial subject material, it quickly vanished into obscurity.
Klaus (Gunter Meisner) is a former Nazi medical experimenter, a job that enabled him to commit the most appalling sex-crimes against young boys. Now, not long after the war, he lives incognito somewhere in Catalonia, still sought after by the authorities, but relatively safe for the time being in Franco's Spain. But soon, he again gives in to his depraved desires, until shame and despair drive him to jump off the roof in an unsuccessful suicide attempt. Because of his jump, he is paralyzed from the neck down, kept alive on an iron lung in the enclosed surroundings of his own home, where he is ministered by his resentful wife Griselda (Marisa Paredes) and her young daughter Rena (Gisela Echevarria). Soon Angelo (David Sust) enters his environment who offers his services as a nurse. Against Griselda's judgement, Klaus insists that the visitor be allowed to take the post. Soon a perverse relationship develops between Angelo and Klaus, becoming ever more macabre as Angelo reveals he has found diaries detailing Klaus' wartime activities.
Director Villaronga manages to built up the tension and suspense in an exceptionally effective manner. Very little violence is shown on screen, but it makes the film all the more disturbing. After it becomes clear Angelo is losing his mind and grows more insane (and murderous), the film grows more intense every minute.
The film was carefully designed by director Agustí Villaronga who uses basically one set, a large Mediterranean villa. There's an ice-cold blue look, blueish lighting, blue clothes, everything has the same tone, right till the unforgettable closing image in the last scene. The masterfully orchestrated score and the universally supreme performances (the young David Sust is especially impressive in his screen debut) make this a near perfect film.
A tough recommendation and not for all tastes, but frankly, any adult who's not able to cope with material like this, shouldn't be allowed to walk the streets at night. Unrightfully dismissed by many as as just a gruesome shocker, there's much more on offer here. An exceptional achievement, clearly deserving wider exposure.
Camera Obscura --- 9/10.
This Spanish shocker certainly offers us no warm portrait of humanity, tackling some extreme material involving Nazis and child abuse, that will undoubtedly shock many. It caused massive walk-outs on its initial release in 1987 and, mainly because of the controversial subject material, it quickly vanished into obscurity.
Klaus (Gunter Meisner) is a former Nazi medical experimenter, a job that enabled him to commit the most appalling sex-crimes against young boys. Now, not long after the war, he lives incognito somewhere in Catalonia, still sought after by the authorities, but relatively safe for the time being in Franco's Spain. But soon, he again gives in to his depraved desires, until shame and despair drive him to jump off the roof in an unsuccessful suicide attempt. Because of his jump, he is paralyzed from the neck down, kept alive on an iron lung in the enclosed surroundings of his own home, where he is ministered by his resentful wife Griselda (Marisa Paredes) and her young daughter Rena (Gisela Echevarria). Soon Angelo (David Sust) enters his environment who offers his services as a nurse. Against Griselda's judgement, Klaus insists that the visitor be allowed to take the post. Soon a perverse relationship develops between Angelo and Klaus, becoming ever more macabre as Angelo reveals he has found diaries detailing Klaus' wartime activities.
Director Villaronga manages to built up the tension and suspense in an exceptionally effective manner. Very little violence is shown on screen, but it makes the film all the more disturbing. After it becomes clear Angelo is losing his mind and grows more insane (and murderous), the film grows more intense every minute.
The film was carefully designed by director Agustí Villaronga who uses basically one set, a large Mediterranean villa. There's an ice-cold blue look, blueish lighting, blue clothes, everything has the same tone, right till the unforgettable closing image in the last scene. The masterfully orchestrated score and the universally supreme performances (the young David Sust is especially impressive in his screen debut) make this a near perfect film.
A tough recommendation and not for all tastes, but frankly, any adult who's not able to cope with material like this, shouldn't be allowed to walk the streets at night. Unrightfully dismissed by many as as just a gruesome shocker, there's much more on offer here. An exceptional achievement, clearly deserving wider exposure.
Camera Obscura --- 9/10.