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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. Januar 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.

I t stank of dust, of damp brickwork, of diesel oil and sweetly of fermented fruit. On tempt, certificate from the technical inspection as well. A former fellow student, the
sheet-metal shelves below a narrow, barred window, the contents of dusty preser-
“star” of year already at the acting academy, had built an ambitious house for himself
ving jars were waiting for the day when they might yet be eaten. Orderly arranged in and his young family at the edge of the forests around Potsdam. He was interested in
a row, they stood there, with glued-on, hand-written labels: quinces, gooseberries, el- the 1970s (which was also noticeable in the house) and vintage cars from years. He
derberries. “We went in it all the way to Lake Garda and to Lago Maggiore. I always was the first I was going to visit and I took off in a thick flurry of snow. Oh, that road
slept in the back, that was really comfy, like a small sofa.” She sounded deliberately right across the forest had not even been there yet in summer. What a wonderful short-
cheerful, took a step forward, opened the garage door all the way. It grated. “Serviced cut! But the road became curvy and hilly and suddenly there were even trees standing
in the repair shop every year, tip top.” She had already switched to the sales text of in the way. Then a ditch, a bang and in front of me the busy traffic of a federal road.
classified ads, removed the tarpaulin, transparent, like old raincoats. Dust swirled Only at full throttle did I make it into a gap. Now the car sounded like a tank. “Wow,
against the light. “Oh, wow!” I exclaimed, almost too early. The old limousine looked Paul Bracq must have designed this, a typical example of an angular car design”, my
enormous and of the past, noble even. The clear, compact shape, the vintage radiator actor colleague pretended to be an expert. He also looked underneath the car. “Hm,
grille with its silvery, arrogant star. “A 200 model, dash eight, built in 71, painted bur- your exhaust pipe is missing. Did you take the shortcut through the wood? That is only
gundy-red and ivory”, she explained. “The dash eight, my dad always said. And my open in winter, for snowploughs.” He grinned. “But great wheels, if you ever want to
mother: the red-white one. And our neighbours: the farmers’ Benz.” And she smiled. get rid of it, you know where I live.” He grinned, even more as if he were on stage.
“I never drove it myself, only my mother, even when she was over 80, until two years “No, I will keep it, such a stroke of luck only happens once!” And I defiantly stepped
ago.” She fished a bunch of keys out of the pocket of her trousers, kept quiet for a mo- on the gas with the droning of a tank. However, after various trips on the autobahn as
ment. “Now she is in a nursing home.” With a jolt, she handed me the key. “One has a moving yet rather crawling traffic obstruction (at a maximum of 80 kilometres per
to preglow it somehow, there at the side, it is a knob- hour), after hundreds of (unsuccessful) manoeuvres to
like lever.” I turned the key, opened the driver’s door, it fit into a parking spot in the city centre with the battle-
creaked like the planks of an aged sailing boat. Heat en- ship, after innumerable (failed) attempts to start the car
veloped me, the smell of a taxi, of synthetic leather, hea- on icy winter mornings, I put the sunglasses, the hat and
ted plastic fittings, cigarettes burnt-out long ago. I pulled the papers back into the glove compartment and sold
the lever, waited and turned the key. Nothing. Not even the “red and white” to my former fellow student who
a trembling. “One has to keep it pulled for longer, until had already longingly enquired about the “Paul Bracq”
a kind of a wire starts glowing there, turn the key only model. Driven by unrest, not curiosity, I called him a
then.” VROOM! The middle-aged woman, dressed in her few weeks later: Yes, the car drove quite excellently, he
respectably trouser suit probably chosen specifically for declared, but on the occasion of an interview for his
this sales day, took a surprised step back. The diesel next engagement, meeting one of the strictest and most
was knocking loudly. “You see, it means well with you.” modern producers, the vehicle had left pitch-black oil
Her facial features relaxed, she appeared to be relieved, stains right in front of the man’s architectural-monu-
suddenly everything happened very fast. “So? Will you ment theatre. Yes, yes, the oil pan... The famous theatre
take it?” One has to negotiate, I thought, that is how it Foto: Benjamin Reding maker had been, how could it be any different, “not
has to be done. “One thousand and eight hundred, amused”. But he had still succeeded in getting the en-
yes?” But she did not negotiate, she nodded. “The pa- gagement. “Man, you have been lucky after all”, I heard
pers are in the glove compartment.” I gave her the money, she pocketed it without re- myself say.” “Oh well”, he had sold the car afterwards, to a mate in London, but with
counting it. “A nice car”, I added and she said: “Yes, it will bring you luck, definitely the “fat thing” he had been unable to cope with the left-hand traffic and, after several
it will!” She waved farewell when I left. The vintage car drove a bit slowly, a bit diffi- fender benders, he had returned the car to him, free of charge. “Now I am driving it
cult in its gears, but also majestically, a self-confident automobile, not a cowering, fa- again and it is slowly starting to really be fun.” I myself, for a long time already the
celess wind-channel flounder. I cranked the sunroof to one side, flipped a small vent driver of a despicable small car, rested assured. Until I happened to meet to meet him
window towards the outside, pressed a button here and there and there as well and at an opening in the Gorki Theatre. Not on stage. In the foyer, he was limping towards
opened the glove compartment: car papers in yellow plastic foil, a manual from 1971 me, his head and arm heavily bandaged. He answered my question before I asked it:
and further back a hat and a pair of sunglasses made of plastic, no doubt both of the “Yes, I had an accident.” My mouth became dry, my voice raspy: “But not with the …
previous owner. Should I take that back? But I put on the hat and the sunglasses my- ?” “Yes, exactly with the vintage car. An accident on the autobahn. A write-off.” Now,
self: The world in front of the wide windscreen now looked like in a gangster film from at long last, I could not hold back. I said, no, I shouted: “Man, what damned, rotten
the 1960s: sepia-toned and slightly blurry. And I was the protagonist! The cool secret bad luck you have had with that lousy, stupid old banger! “Not true.” He said it calmly,
agent from Alphaville, the burglar who planned everything perfectly and failed all the almost cheerfully. “You don’t think so?” “No, I have been lucky. I lost consciousness
same from Elevator to the Gallows, the smart paparazzo from La dolce vita. I whoo- while driving, had been stung by a wasp, circulatory collapse, an allergic shock. I just
ped! At the first crossing in the city centre, the engine started to sputter; in the street managed to get to the crash barrier and then rolled to a stop on the hard shoulder,
in front of my flat, it went out. But the house was located on a downwards slope, my quite like in a film.” He gave a dry laugh. “But if it had happened near home, without
sheet-metal battleship rolled the last metres to the front door. “Wow, I have been the autobahn emergency doctor, then I probably would have …” He looked at me.
lucky for once.” I sighed quietly. Winter arrived early that year and, after a third at- “Your ancient car has saved my life.” And he put his arms around me.

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