2024-09-29 10:11:41
The Frankfurt “Tatort” has always given a damn about the boundaries of the genre. This time Matthias Brandt goes crazy as a psychologist with romantic whimsy. It was the last case for the old team. We will miss you.
There was a time when we would still like to throw in something that Tristan Grünfels clearly either inhaled or carried himself with a crime like no other. There you are, Frankfurt’s new “crime event” has begun casually, on the almost kitschy meadow with silk wallpaper.
He talks about himself, – accompanied by a gentle symphonic music – a quote Goethe is killing the camera that will not come from Goethe, and get killed – without shoes and clothes in the dust, which in turn serves as armor give him the floor. He laughed softly, because only Matthias Brandt could laugh. It is Tristan Grünfels in “Tatort”.
The man, a “psychologist” by profession, had a great crack in the bowl and could prove to my father that psychologists are always on the hook. Where. Actually, Tristan just wants what we all want, which seems confusing at the moment. Silence. Peace. Ask for. That everything will be fine. Live and live. But everything is getting worse and worse.
For example, this is where the tragedy really begins in the life of this middle-class Mephistopheles: he wants to save a picture of a huge waste on the side of the road. He loves sweet pictures. The image you want to save is exactly the one that was floating around a few minutes ago. Tristan stopped in his car and took the picture.
Everything like Wagner
The super-good-for-nothing agent from the public order office (!) confronts him, racks his nerves with his traffic ticket hysteria, and slides around on the oil paint with his fingernails. And he took it away. The clothed ball fell backwards, got stuck on a traffic island and died at the scene of the accident.
Peace in the life of the “psychopath” and former victim counselor for the Frankfurt police, we have already observed through the comments of Tristan’s superego from the screen, but that is long gone. Tristan has lost his life.
The woman (Rosalie with a name like Richard Wagner’s older sister) cheats, for Senta (as the love interest in Wagner’s “Flying Dutchman”) and Erik (as the sailor who loves Senta in Wagner’s “Dutchman”) is nothing.
His greasy brother Hagen (of course you know: the meanie from “The Ring”) only needs him when he needs money, and he needs money a lot because he owes Frankfurt underworld big Leonardo Muller (don’t say Müller, he doesn’t like that at all ).
Perhaps you have already noticed that this “crime level” Frankfurt does not really give about the boundaries of the genre. And the 19th and last case that is likely soon to be the legendary Frankfurt “Tatort” duo of Margarita Broich as Inspector Janneke and Wolfram Koch as his colleague Brix did a lot, the trademark of the Sunday night crime variety like thick oil painting on the wall of “Tatort” – Story to paint – the fantasy of the black side of Germany.
In general, one can summarize the goal of most of all Frankfurt studies with the title of the exhibition organized by the future son-in-law of Tristan Grünfels. His name is Ersun (nothing related to Wagner), he kidnaps the immigration advocate Tristan, pretends to be the family man Tristan is not and is a digital artist. His exhibition was called “The Disorders of the German Soul”.
A silly title
For example, you can stand in front of a screen on an imitation rock, the view is wide, the fog is flowing, the traveler is watching. Then you hear strikes, bombs go off and a dark monster rises mysteriously from the fog.
“It’s green when the hills of Frankfurt are illuminated” is the name of the incredibly stupid book by Michael Pröhl and Dirk Morgenstern, which is directed by Till Endemann and which completely confuses at least three thirds of German living rooms . It definitely wins the award for the stupidest of all “Tatort” headlines.
In its escalatory results, it seems as if the bloody city struggle of Joel Schumacher “Throw down” with Michael Douglas, Caspar David Friedrich and the best of heavy German romanticism has been poured with a few pages of wisdom from half silk guides, spoonfuls of irony spnkled on top and the substance of bad red light B-Pictures and let the mixer run for hours.
Broich and Koch said goodbye with dignity and ease. The point of disruption of the German soul will be closed. Melika Foroutan and Edin Hasanović took the “Tatort” Frankfurt board. It should be about cold cases. Now this is not a new concept either. More cautious times are coming.
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