Bad Seben, Black Seven

I walk past this house/bar/club each morning on my way from the small Rot-Malsch train station to my office. Before heading down a path through some woods and along a little stream, I pass it. For weeks, the emblems and what seemed like the bar/club name made me a bit uneasy. One morning, and then one evening, I saw those front windows open, caught glimpse of a man with shaved head, and couldn't help but suspect it to be some type of neo-Nazi location. A small sign on the door announced that only club members are welcome.

In Germany, because overt expressions related to Nazism are forbidden by law, neo-Nazi groups find ways to code their expressions and names. Instead of exclaiming "Heil Hitler," for example, they may explain or write "88," the eigth letter of the alpabet being the letter "h."

I tried to find some code here, something with the number seven, something related to black and seven, or bad and seven, but nothing came of it until I found information about their link to a biker community called "MC Gremium." "G" being the 7th letter of the alphabet, thus the "7" in "Bad Seven." Gremium means something like body, committe, causus, etc.

Apparently, the German government has gone after the group in the past on account of individual right-extremist members. They're careful on their website to dismiss any ideological leanings, though, writing:

"We distance ourselves from "right" and "left" ideas - we believe only in ourselves."

Gallivant

Director: Andrew Kötting
Main cast: Gladys Morris, Eden Kötting, Andrew Kötting

I'd never heard of this movie, but Leonie and I happened upon it last Friday night at one of the independent screening rooms in Karlsruhe, and it's been on my mind ever since. Presents a man, his 7-year old daugher, and his 85-year old grandmother (the daughter's great-grandmother), and, occasionally, the small film crew, on a road trip along the coast of Great Britain. Virtually all aspects of this movie are generative for me, but in particular, I can't get over the empathetic attempt being made through modes of presentation. The camera work alternates between erratic, time-lapsed, and/or magnified shots and steadier stretches and perspectives. The daughter has Joubert syndrome, described (on wikipedia) as being characterized by lack of muscle control, an abnormal breathing pattern, and abnormal eye and tongue movements. She cannot speak words very well and, for example, has difficulty walking on her own. But she uses a simple form of signing; there are amazing time-lapsed scenes where her expressions are translated for the viewer, time-lapsed, I think, because an unfamiliar eye wouldn't be able to recognize the voluntary from the interrupting involuntary motions. Other time-lapsed still shots of the landscape, also referencing the rapid transitions of the regional weather, angled, close-up shots of sections of an action (mouth speaking), and other modes that I can't describe well. Then there's the steadier moments between the grandmother and son, grandmother and daughter, father and daughter, and camera (father) or group and passersby, etc., the interactions of which are surprisingly casual, sharp, and funny, especially in scenes obviously staged. The grandma and daughter in a row boat, happily conversing, the grandma rowing an oar but not gaining an inch, the daughter jerking the rudder back and forth. Or another scene where the three of them, grandmother, father, daughter, are walking up a gradual incline, the father carrying a sofa chair over his head, presumably for the grandmother once they reach where they're going. You never see them get there, though. Just hear their conversation and see them move along.

Here's some more information: http://www.screenonline.org.uk/film/id/497791/index.html