It was my first time at the Berlinale as an accredited movie goer and a producer´s closest adviser (my b-friend is in the producing business, spare me!), so you can imagine: I made all the beginner mistakes! I underestimated the mass of accredited “movie-makers”: from “I am working for a company that distributes the marketing material” to the “I am studying photography at the multi-media school”. I queued for hours thinking it was me who was going to get that last seat. I was spare of water and refreshment. I was cold and tired. Worst of all, in the chaos of chasing the biggest movie-diamond, I missed all the small gems. But! I haven´t missed the B-movie: Lust & Sound in West Berlin. I ran to the last projection, twisted my neck in the first row and missed a friend´s party: but I floated to the West Berlin island in the 80´s. And it was damned worth of it!
I´ve never heard of WestBam before, his career took-off the year I was born. Still, I could not retrieve my peace before I dug everything about him. He has two sons and lives in my Kiez – we might even shop in the same Rewe, so what a pity that, had we met, I wouldn´t even had recognised him! Now I spread the love and he found a new hard core follower, who cannot get his time-lapsed, powerful, 2013-tune out of her head!
…or check this apocalyptic, nuclear vision of Berlin, rediscovering humanity in a….big bear. (zur Info: when Germans want to be funny or have fun, they dress up – for some reasons, they think it´s MEGA GEIL dressing up, mostly in animals, sometimes in robots, or cowboys).
Speaking about animals, I had the most bizarre conversation during a Berlinale queue. In my previous life, I was a scientist. I left research to fulfill my other strivings, but I still dedicate a good portion of my time to science management (that´s what I do for living) and I still believe that there is no more creative, challenging and fulfilling task in this universe, than expanding the borders of human knowledge. At the same time I used to practice science, I was unlucky enough to hang out with some extremely self-indulgent people, who thought they were extremely cool and had an unfortunate sprinkle of artistic talent: not enough to practice art, but enough to make them believe they were gifted and different (the worst combination, god save us all). Not knowing how to exert the dominance over me (when moving in a pack, dominance is very important), they were keen on banalising my achievements. When asked about what I was doing, the answer was: she works with mice. Then they would burst into an artificial laughter. As you may imagine – we split and I haven´t met any of them ever since.
Suddenly, there was a familiar face from my past, standing just in front of me. “Hi there, how are you” said I “long time no see, we both got older, sorry to tell you that”. We haven´t seen each other for years. “Heeeeey. Still working with mice?”. “Äh?”. “Well, you know, I always imagine you being a mice-nurse!”. That was her picking on my sweated PhD in Molecular Biology. I imagined her head between my fists, thinking if I should hit her like a boxing bag or inject some kindness. I did my best to stay polite, still not to reject the fight. I´ve never been a sissy. “You know, that was my work – I was working on some mind-changing substances and, yes, mouse was my animal model – I didn´t like it and that is one of the reasons why I left research. You know, not all of us were lucky enough to have rich parents or uncles to support our living”. She knew whom I was referring to: two perverted personalities, who used to be a never-ending source for disgracing the others, never achieving anything on their own. They lived, and still live, of other people´s money – appropriately forgetting that gaining wealth in Serbia in the nineties usually did not imply anything good or moral and definitely excluded any civil consciousness. “Äh” said she. Just for a second, she was embarrassed. But this second was quickly gone. “I do some really nice things now, photography, writing…. I am even thinking about shooting a series of documentaries” said I, trying to save her from herself and to give her a lead for changing the topic. “You should shoot a documentary about MICE!”, she stabbed her final blow. I surrendered. Some people have no mercy. The time was ripe to move on. Literally and figuratively.
