Schultze Gets the Blues

In another example of life imitating art, Schultze Gets the Blues apparently took a cue from its own slow pacing. It's been nearly two years since the film's original 2003 release in Germany, where it was a smash hit. Since then, Schultze has earned considerable acclaim, earning the Special Director's Award at the Venice Film Festival, as well as Best Picture and Best Screenplay at the Stockholm Film Festival. Not bad considering this is the first international release for 40-year-old writer/director Michael Schorr.

The movie is largely set in a small, unspecified town in the East German state of Saxon-Anhalt. Schultze (Horst Krause) has spent most of his life working in a salt mine with his lifelong friends Jürgen (Harald Warmbrunn) and Manfred (Karl-Fred Müller). It's apparently an existence based on routine, to the point where you can tell these three men in their 50s are best buddies, even though they barely share any words in the film's first 15 minutes.

Horst Krause is quietly terrific in the title role

Then the unthinkable happens when all three are forced into early retirement, with little more to show for it than a souvenir lamp—made of salt, no less. It's too late in life to find new fulfilling work in this modern era. What now?

With their jobs behind them, life seems to lose meaning for these three. They hang out at the local pub, do some fishing, and play the occasional game of chess. But at least Jürgen and Manfred have families to keep them occupied. Schultze, the quietest of the trio, is unmarried and seems to live in the modern equivalent of a shack. The only thing he has to look forward to outside of time with his friends is participation in the community music club, where he lives in the shadow of his late father and continues to play the same polkas on his accordion year after year. Is this all there is to life?

Miners no more, Schultze and his buddies face the retirement blues

Inspiration strikes on a sleepless night when Schultze turns the radio dial and discovers zydeco. A German infatuated with Louisiana folk? It initially seems strange to Schultze too, since he initially fears he's fallen ill with a violent mood swing. But it's not nearly as unthinkable when you see him learn to play it on the accordion by focusing on one tune and speeding it up from comfortable polka to snappy Cajun blues. He takes to it like a kid with a new toy, evidenced by another scene where he finds himself continuously returning to zydeco while trying to practice his polka for an upcoming music festival—similar to kids pounding out rock on the piano in between practicing their scales.

As a result, Schultze's passion is rekindled, to the point where he begins to explore the culture by preparing Jambalaya for his friends. He also draws encouragement to pursue his interests from two local free spirits—Frau Lorant (Rosenarie Deibel), who works in the nursing home where his mother resides, and Lisa (Wilhelmine Herschig), the new waitress at the neighborhood pub. It all helps him work up the courage to introduce his love for the newfound music at the local music festival, with hopes of traveling to America to play for the club's sister chapter in Texas … and perhaps explore Bayou Country as well.

Schultze and friends ham it up

The film demonstrates the transforming power of music in more than a few lives, though it's ultimately less about the art and more about inspiration and finding purpose. Schultze's quiet joy for the buoyant zydeco is contrasted with some tedious German polkas and folk music. Yet it's not the music itself that's lacking—it's the lack of passion in the performances. The central character in this story is not the only one in need of newfound spark.

As such, Schultze Gets the Blues has much in common with other successful small films over the last few years. The most obvious comparison is Jack Nicholson's similarly bittersweet post-retirement parable About Schmidt. In some ways, it's got the same message of reviving self-esteem as The Full Monty, though this film obviously finds inspiration in far less vulgar artistic expression. And there are some parallels to 1999's leisurely paced The Straight Story, about the old man who takes a long journey on his lawnmower to visit his ailing brother.

On his quest for fulfillment, Schultze is willing to pack his bags and go to America

Those examples help demonstrate the feel of Schultze Gets the Blues, but it still remains its own movie primarily because of its gentle charm. It's often chuckle-worthy, rarely hilarious—and occasionally sad, but never weepy or overly dramatic. There's a sense of reality to all of the film's developments, despite some of the Buster Keaton like foibles of Schultze and his friends. On that note, there's almost a John Belushi quality to Krause's oft-silent reactions. You feel like he's about to do something crazy, but he never goes off the scale, playing everything to subtle comedic effect and sympathy.

Schorr also does a fine job of communicating emotion, often relying more on imagery and facial expressions than on dialogue, which again often makes the film feel more genuine as a result. Note how often the silences between the three friends and other characters speak volumes to the audience. While some of the quiet visuals are seemingly odd or random, they usually take on more meaning when you consider the context and wait to see what happens next. Pay special attention to the town's windmills in the movie, noting their state of activity at given points—they're vital to the central theme. As important as many of these lingering shots are, it makes you wonder what Schorr intended in a scene where Schultze ponders a sign on a house/church that says, "God is in control. He calms the waters."

These days, it's also interesting (and refreshing) to see a European film offer a loving look at America without a trace of cynicism. The story often requires Schultze to rely on the kindness of strangers, and he encounters many a Good Samaritan during his personal quest for meaning. There's a scene late in the film with some retirees playing dominoes in an American bar—demonstrating we're not so different from the Germans. The grass always seems greener wherever you aren't, and we all wrestle with unfulfilled dreams, especially in our Golden Years. Or perhaps the scene is there to show how we can take joy in the little things of life.

That's all testament to how Schorr allows viewers to draw their own conclusions from the film's visuals. The disadvantage to such storytelling is that it leaves some gaps and questions to the narrative. Like, why doesn't Schultze try to get in touch with the radio station to learn more about zydeco and first connect with other Germans that share his passion? Wouldn't it make more sense to travel to Berlin before Baton Rouge? Things like this need to be accepted on faith, understanding that this is more a fable than it is a tight script.

If anything, people are most likely to complain about the film's slow and deliberate pacing. Lingering shots and long silences abound. But again, there's a point to most every scene. This is one of the best movies in demonstrating the potential tedium of retired life—wasted hours, seemingly aimless future, little to look forward to. Not everyone can appreciate characters that seem to do nothing for minutes on end. But audiences can find reward by investing patience into the developments, capitalizing on the silences to consider what is trying to be expressed and reflect on them in relation to their own lives.

Therein lies the strength of Schultze Gets the Blues, a film with two opposite interpretations to its title—figuratively sad, literally joyful. It's about a man on a personal quest for meaning. He doesn't know where he's going, and we're along for the ride, as uncertain about what lies ahead for him in this life as he is. It's not a masterpiece, but it's a sweet and poignant film that would do Rick Warren proud as an abstract companion piece to his book, The Purpose Driven Life. Because as the movie tagline states, "It's never too late to re-tune your soul."

Talk About It

1. Do you think we too often make our jobs the focus of our lives? Is that appropriate? Is there more to life than our careers? Does your work matter in the long term?
   
   
2. What legacy will we leave behind once we're retired? Do we simply carry on through the lives of our children, or does the film offer an example to the contrary? Can failed dreams be revived? What will we do with the time granted us when everything else seems to crash down around us?
   
   
3. Compare and contrast the people Schultze encounters in Germany and America. How are Good Samaritans portrayed? Where do other people fall short, and what does the film say about offering compassion and encouragement to the people around us?
   
   
4. At one point, Schultze is seen pondering a sign that says, "God is in control. He calms the waters." (Who can say if he understood it with his limited English?) Do you think the director, once a philosophy major, intended meaning with this in the film's context?
   
   
5. Does this movie have a happy or sad ending? Both? What effect does Schultze's passion for zydeco and his travels have on his hometown? Can we take similar comfort in the lives that we quietly affect?
   
   
6. How does this movie demonstrate our need for God without ever really saying so? What does it have to say about finding purpose to this life?

The Family Corner

Schultze Gets the Blues is rated PG for a few uses of mild profanity. There's also alcohol consumption, though it's more in the context of European culture (akin to drinking coffee with friends) rather than attempting to get drunk. Plus, the movie offers a classic example of why overweight men should never ever wear Speedo briefs in public. The film is ultimately suitable for most audiences and families, though kids probably won't be interested in seeing a German language movie about post-retirement blues.

Photos © Copyright Paramount Classics

What Other Critics Are Saying

When a retired miner and polka musician from East Germany discovers the blues, he grabs his accordion and heads for Louisiana. Schultze Gets the Bluesis about more than music, however. It's about getting older and living with purpose.

So says Russ Breimeier (Christianity Today Movies). "This is one of the best movies in demonstrating the potential tedium of retired life—wasted hours, seemingly aimless future, little to look forward to. Not everyone can appreciate characters that seem to do nothing for minutes on end. But audiences can find reward by investing patience into the developments, capitalizing on the silences to consider what is trying to be expressed and reflect on them in relation to their own lives." He concludes that the film is "figuratively sad, literally joyful. It's about a man on a personal quest for meaning."

Mainstream critics are praising it as "highly original." One critic calls it "One of those movies where nothing whatsoever seems to happen until you look closely, at which point everything happens."