Paganini (1989)
1/10
An ego stroking for sure
29 October 2023
It's a question that has been asked by film critics and casual moviegoers alike for as long as cinema has been a medium: can you separate the art from the artist? There are some who take one extreme and say that no, you never, ever, ever can separate the art from the artist and vice versa. There are some, like myself, who take a middle position and argue that it really depends on the circumstances. There are others who take another extreme and say that you should always separate the art from the artist, regardless of the person or medium. For those people, this movie is an 800-pound gorilla plowing through the wall in a King Tiger tank and saying, "Hold my kegger."

"Paganini" is a pet project by Klaus Kinski done near the end of his film career. It's about Niccolò Paganini, the famous Italian violinist and composer... though music aficionados expecting another "Amadeus" should probably look elsewhere. A lot of other reviewers have referred to this film as if it's an art house project or some kind of avant-garde experiment, but even there one is stretching it. The first half of the movie largely deals with Paganini's romantic conquests (although I use the phrase "romantic" loosely... more on that later), while the second half deals with the relationship between Paganini and his son Achille. Those are really the prominent focuses on each section. As I said, if you're expecting an interesting character study like "Amadeus", you're instead going to be treated to something that feels like a low budget porn film. If you're expecting at least a pretty period film, you're also going to be disappointed: a lot of this film feels either too cheap or too ugly to really be visually appreciated. Heck, it doesn't even feel that well filmed, and Kinski's direction is bare bones when it comes to that. ("Barry Lyndon" this film is not.)

Some reviewers have said the movie is a lot like Kinski himself... and therein lies the problem I mentioned at the beginning. What do you do when a man known to be an egotistical, abusive sexual deviant makes a movie wherein he plays an egotistical, abusive sexual deviant?

Read some of the behind-the-scenes stuff about the actresses involved, and most of them are about how Kinski sexually assaulted and raped them on camera. (I know the real Paganini was a horndog, but apparently Kinski interpreted him as a serial rapist.) How exactly are we supposed to take scenes where Paganini is holding women down while they struggle or scream, and take it all in stride as "just a movie", when in fact that was probably how the woman actually felt? Add to this the very real fact that Kinski was a pedophile who sexually abused and groomed his firstborn daughter Pola Kinski, then later attempted to do the same to his other daughter Nastassja Kinski. Supposedly Natassja was almost going to be in this film along with her half-brother, but quit after one day of shooting. (I can only imagine why.) So when I accuse Kinski of being an abusive sexual deviant, I'm not kidding.

And as for ego? The first five minutes of the film are literally Kinski standing there, as Paganini, while a whole theater claps for him and women pine over him. And before anyone accuses me of reading too much into that scene, remember this is a guy who threw food at a supporter because he felt like the man didn't compliment him ENOUGH. Look up his spoken word performance as Jesus Christ, where he loses it and leaves the stage as soon as he's heckled, and even after the hecklers are removed and his most loyal fans are gathered around, he still loses it because he feels like they're not paying attention enough. Read his autobiography, where he claims to have had numerous sexual escapades himself. (Most of which have been denied by the women.) So no, when Kinski's standing there, being applauded by everyone, and all the women in the theater look like they want him then and there, it's hard for me to think that wasn't how he perceived himself. He probably really thought he was like Paganini: this great, underrated genius that women desired more than life itself.

I said at the beginning that as far as the idea of "separating the art from the artist" goes, you can only take that so far. Yes, there are times you can do that. I can watch Andrew Robinson in "Dirty Harry" and still love him as an actor because I know that, in real life, he's not the kind of man who would take a busload of elementary school kids hostage, threaten to shoot their mommies, and force them at gunpoint to sing "Row Row Row Your Boat". I can watch John Travolta in "Battlefield Earth" and still like him as a person because, from everything I've heard, he's a super nice guy in real life, and the Scientology stuff is, for him, more about personal faith than something he tries to push on everyone he knows. By contrast, when I see Kinski in his movies assaulting women, screaming his lungs out, declaring himself to be a god, and tossing monkeys around, it's hard for me to say, "He's just acting" and move on. No, that's not acting - that's really who he is.

If you're a die-hard Klaus Kinski fan who likes to tell everyone he's a fantastic actor while covering your eyes and ears to the fact he was abusive to his own daughters and regularly maimed and abused (verbally and physically) fellow actors and crewmembers on set, then by all means see this movie. If you're looking for a real biopic, then look elsewhere.
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