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Jeden Monat nähern sich unsere Kolumnisten, die Berliner Filmemacher Dominik und Benjamin Reding, dem jeweiligen Heftthema
auf ihre ganz eigene Art und Weise. Geboren wurden die Zwillinge am 3. Ja nuar 1969 in Dortmund. Während Dominik Architektur
in Aachen und Film in Hamburg studierte, absolvierte Benjamin ein Schauspielstudium in Stuttgart. 1997 begann die Arbeit an
ihrem ersten gemeinsamen Kinofilm „Oi! Warning“. Seitdem arbeiten sie für Fernseh- und Kinofilmprojekte zusammen.

Each month our columnists, Berlin-based filmmakers Dominik and Benjamin Reding, approach the respective issue-specific
theme in their very personal way. The twins were born on January 3, 1969 in Dortmund. Whilst Dominik studied architecture
in Aachen and film in Hamburg, Benjamin graduated in acting studies in Stuttgart. They started working on their first joint
motion picture “Oi! Warning“ in 1997. Since then they have tightly collaborated for TV and cinema film projects.

Ein Essay von Dominik Reding
M ontréal is a beautiful city. Or rather was! Small, red colonial style brick houses, In the evenings, General Rickman sat in the hotel bar, where the walls, the floor, ceiling,
narrow, winding alleys, a market hall with a dome construction resembling that
even the tables were made of the same reddish-brown concrete admixed with gravel,
of St. Peter’s and an impressive Beaux-Arts city hall located at the highest point of the just like the entrance hall, the lift shafts, the hotel car park and the swimming pool on
inner city, with an unrestricted view across the Saint Lawrence River. Then the city host- top of the car park, and he drank “scotch on the rocks”. Not with enjoyment, like a con-
ed a World Exposition and Olympic Games, and both took place at the wrong time. In noisseur, not hastily, like a drinker, but in a natural fashion, like a pro. “Dominik, look
1967 and 1976. The town planners and architects dreamt of a city perfectly organised at me! Invite important people to the screening. The stars, the directors, the critics, the
down to the last detail. Pedestrians, drivers, shopping, living, working, entertainment famous actors! And be there on time!” – “Yes, Mr. Rickman,” I nodded. And I stole away
district, and green areas – all of that clearly separated by wide roads and stacked on top from the concrete bar on the 23rd floor – which felt like Level +12 – and stepped out into
of one another. The new city would take place on various levels: Level -10: car park (also the street, Level 0, – or more specifically the gap between two elevated roads. After the
suited for one-man helicopters); Level -2: shopping centre (with fountains); Level 0: old Olympic Games the people of Montréal had run out of money. There was not enough
city (to be demolished shortly); Level +2: apartments (with helipad for one-man helicop- money for new buildings on the cleared sites anymore. On the edges of the sites, the
ters): Level +5: offices (fully air-conditioned); Level +10: hotel (with swimming pool). last brick buildings were now standing close together, like freezing people at a bus stop
Everything interconnected with lifts, escalators, travelators, skywalks, tunnels for under- in winter, lit by the pale yellow floodlights of the elevated highways. There, right there
ground railways, cars and pedestrians. Inhabitants of Montréal thought to themselves: life was rocking. There were pubs, clubs, cafés, tattoo studios, go-go bars, dance halls,
That’s exactly what we do, and so they cut apart but not hip and trendy ones but simple, rough
the city with broad streets. Deep in the ground and low class establishments. A group of beg-
they constructed shopping centres because the ging train hoppers was sitting in front of a run-
winters in Montréal are cold. On top they built down music club, who were not even admitted
hotels and cinemas and theatres in a style which to this venue. In Canada, train hoppers are
is not for nothing called brutalism. For all of young people living on freight trains. Two girls,
these projects they used the same concrete, red- three boys, three dogs. “Pourquoi êtes-vous ici?”
dish-brown, admixed with plenty of gravel, at the oldest one of them, maybe 25 years old, his
times executed with sharp edged grooves the face tattooed like that of a Maori, looked at me
width of a hand. You were not always sure of critically. I explained. In English. They did not
where exactly you were. Breakfast room? En- understand a word. I scraped together the last
trance to the underground? Theatre foyer? Now bits of my schoolboy French: “Festival des films
the inhabitants of Montréal had a wonderfully du monde, grand spectacle, dans le cinéma,
modern city, but, in fact, they actually did no demain.” – “You made movie?” he looked at me
longer have a city. Its remains resembled lost in disbelief. I nodded. “Good luck,” he said,
islands in the sea of elevated highways, tower grinned and exposed a gap between his teeth.
blocks and high lines, a lift away from the per- “For you, too,” I said, gave the five young people
fectly organised life which happened ten metres the five invitations and returned to the hotel. The
below or ten metres above this old city at Level 0. film screening next day was well-visited, but Mr
The film festival hotel was located in the centre. Foto: Benjamin Reding Rickman looked sullenly. “No stars”, he did not
That means located in something whose heavy even wait to see the beginning of the film.
concrete access road was marked with the metal “Dominik! Look at me! Gimme a call, tomorrow,
sign “City Centre“. The entrance hall, too, consisted of red-brownish concrete rich in 6 a.m.! We have to talk about your contract.” Then he jumped into a cab to the airport.
gravel and was connected with a hall for press conferences, an car park, a shopping There was some trouble at the cinema entrance. With one of the train hopper I had
centre and even with the festival cinema, if one only managed to find the right under- invited. The one with the Maori tattoo. He was on his own, nervously presenting his invi-
ground corridor leading towards it. “Dominik, look at me! Put up the posters! Every- tation. But the security guys did not believe what they saw. I explained, took him with
where!” Our movie has had an agent for several weeks. Someone who should take care me. He smelled of dog and street and beer, spoke excitedly in his Canadian French slang
that the film sold well. Our agent was called Charles-Seymour Rickman, or “C.S.Rick- and took the last empty seat in the cinema, right at the back. Our film was already on.
man, President” as it said on his business card, and he came from Hollywood – from German with English subtitles. The room went quiet. A man in a suit next to him moved
where else! He had served with the US Marines for a few years and thus liked to be away. I left the screening room, drank a coke, waited in the foyer, answered questions
called “General Rickman”. He said: “Dominik! Put your posters right next to the posters of journalists. Finally, the doors of the room were opened, I heard the music accompa-
of the most famous movie of the festival!”, or: “Always be the first at press meetings!”, nying the closing credits. The train hopper was the first to leave the cinema. He walked
or: “Talk to the `L.A. Times´, they have the best critics”, or he simply said: “Look at me! towards me and gently pushed his fist against my chest. “Merci,” he said, “merci”,
The screening will be a big success!” But our movie was no “big success”, it did not three, four times: “Merci.” Then he looked up, his eyes were reddened, watery, he had
even want to be one. The story of a man living in a construction trailer who loves life, cried. “Au revoir,” he gave me another jog with his fist, then he turned around and
fights for his life and loses it in the end, shot in sharp-contrast black-and-white. It was trudged towards the glass doors. Level 0. This time, the security guys left him alone, he
screened in a side section, the festival management put in five entrance tickets for free. was, after all, on his way out.

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