More splatter and more tortured. Everything him doubles down on the original, so many villains, much more plot a moodier direction. It lacks the early film charm, but makes up for it with pain and masochism.
I kinda want to punch people comparing this to Demy in the face as much as I wanted to punch Gosling’s (whose self-absorption is put to great use here even if I’m not sure it was intentional). That said, the anxiety of failure that runs as undercurrent throughout this does stings some. It is half a prick’s wish-fulfillment fantasy and half a manic depressed nightmare of someone afraid to be exposed and the way those disparate parts run together is curious at least.
"We're late, darling, we're late
The curtain descends, everything ends too soon, too soon"
One can't stop history. Come for Vertigo by way of Fassbinder, stays to be complete emotional devasted. Literally physical painful to sit through at times. The best thing about Petzold spare staging, the way his images can both feel charged with history and emotionally naked might have never been put to such good use. Also, Nina Hoss is beyond words (Zehrfeld is pretty great in a tricky role as well);
Literally greatest drop the mic ending ever.