Let's see if I can divine the impression people have of me after this discussion. You think that I only like very simple, straightforward stuff with a minimum of artistic flourish. Better yet, a complete absence of it.

That would not be entirely true. Evidence for that is the film Run Lola Run.

This is a film from five years ago made in German by a German writer/director. It falls squarely under the category of avant gard.

The story is about a girl named Lola with a boyfriend named Manni who works as a drug courier. He had just completed a job where he picked up 100,000 marks that h e was supposed to deliver to his boss. While riding the subway (without a ticket, as he usually does) inspectors boarded. He followed his natural reaction of getting off the train as soon as possible, only to realize he'd left the bag of money on the train.

The movie starts with Manni calling Lola, telling her he has to come up with 100,000 marks in twenty minutes, or he's dead. In desperation, he's planning on robbing a nearby store. Lola tells him to wait -- she'll try to find the money for him.

The techniques of the storytelling are far from transparent. We get a surreal opening scene with crowds of people milling about, with the camera focusing on all the support characters who are the only ones with any significant color to them and the only ones who look directly into the camera, and the only ones standing still instead of milling.

The narrator during this scene is also a support character and the last one we focus on as he waxes poetic about how life is like a soccer game, then kicks a soccer ball impossibly high into the air, which the camera follows as it points down to the grouns. As our point of view rises, all the milling people gather together to form letters that spell out the German version of the title: "Lola rennt."

Normalcy takes over during the fateful, but energy-charged phone call, and ends with it. As Lola tries to figure out a way to get the money, the camera rotates around her dizzily using stop-motion animation to make things surreal again. Flashes of the people she's thinking about as possible sources of money zip by in a fraction of a second. When she decides on one, she runs out the door and down the stairs, passing a neighbor in her apartment building who has the door open, the TV on, and is talking on the phone. The camera leaves Lola and zooms around the neighbor, then focuses on the TV which is showing an animated cartoon of Lola running down the stairs and confronting a nasty boy with his growling dog.

After that quick encounter we're back to live action as Lola runs through town. When she passes one of the supporting characters, we are treated to a "flash forward" of what will happen to that character for the rest of his/her life in about two seconds through a bunch of still photographs with the sound of a camera snapping pictures.

Lola fails in her first attempt to get the money, Manni tries to rob the store, and in the process one of them is shot by the police. We suddenly switch to a flashback of the two in bed, quietly discussing their relationship. Thanks to that memory, Lola decides by sheer force of will that not even death is going to separate them, and transports herself back to the beginning so she can try again.

With each iteration, Lola does something slightly different, and that influence impacts the lives of all the people she encounters. Through the quick flash forwards, we see how their lives have changed.

Whenever a flashback occurs giving us the backstory of why the original phone call is taking place, the director shoots it in black and white. Whenver something is happening in the present, but away from Lola or Manni, it's shot in video. Anything current scene with Lola and Manni is shot in 35mm color film or animation. The flashbacks of Lola and Manni discussing their relationship in bed are flooded with red lighting. And of course the flash forwards are presented in still photography.

The soundtrack is in an alternate rock style from the 90s, which I normally don't care for but which works beautifully for the film and therefore makes me like it. Twice the image on the screen is transitioned into by having the top half bang into the bottom half like a clapboard clapping, accompanied by a loud bang. Steadycam movement -- more like flight -- of the camera pervades the film. Many of the scenes are filmed using a crane shot that is consistently sixty meters high. And because the film is in German, on top of everything else, we have subtitles to read.

The vehicle for telling this story is always intruding itself into our consciousness. There is nothing transparent about this film's style. We are always aware of it. Just the sort of thing I would be inclined to hate.

Except that Run Lola Run is one of my favorite movies.

And there's one reason for it. The style, which constantly intrudes into my awareness, never intrudes into the story. On the contrary, every bit of avant gard technique contributes to the clarity of the storytelling.

The style is perfect for this story. The plot and the acting are full of energy, and so is the style. The whole storyline is surreal, so many of the images are too. There is a specific style for presentiong each time period of the story, which helps us to keep track of what's going on in a film that could have easily lost us if shot by a less competent director. The music was perfect running music.

Run Lola Run is proof positive that I am fine with an unusual, challenging style, as long as that style contributes to telling the story, rather than detracting from it. The style is bold and exhibitionist, always crying out, "Look at me! Look at me!" But never does it create obscurity.

Now you could have enjoyed this magnificent piece of film work and discussed it with other film enthusiasts just last Saturday, like four of us did, if you had only attended D. Michael's Film Lab for May -- along with two other fine films that fit the theme "twisted timelines." But since you didn't, you'll just have to set your sites on June's film lab, where we view three films that explore different Christian religions: Witness (Amish), My Big Fat Greek Wedding (Greek Orthodox), and Robert Duvall's labor of love The Apostle (Pentecostal).

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D. Michael Martindale
dmichael@wwno.com