a highlight of the expressionistic silent era of the weimarer republic, Asphalt foreshadows the Film Noir, and even some wild breed of Ingmar Bergman and Russ Meyer, if you're playful enough for that comparison.
the feisty little quirk is powerfully pictorial, nearly iconoclastic so to say. mimic art, gestures, the wild camera, that captures berlins street life - everything works in favor for the vibrant tone of the movie. in all its friskiness about gender roles and psychoanalytic constructions (the drives vs superego... sounds like a super hero thing), it's open for a progressive or reactionary interpretation. a true beauty.
