Bagdad Café
West Germany/USA | 1987 | Directed by Percy Adlon
Logline: When a German tourist is abandoned by her husband she seeks solace at a dysfunctional Californian desert café motel and inadvertently brings disruption, then joy to the staff, guests and patrons.
A film festival favourite when it was first released Bagdad Café (aka Out Of Rosenheim) is the quintessential 80s arthouse comedy; a quirky character study of eccentricities, idiosyncrasies, and observations of Americana from the viewpoint of a Bavarian husband and wife team: Percy and Eleonare Adlon (they co-wrote, she produced, he directed). It melds German fastidiousness with American casual asides with amusing and endearing insight.
Ostensibly a light-hearted drama with touches of surrealism, the movie drifts like the tumbleweed, sometimes feeling like a short movie padded out to feature length, and sometimes feeling like a series of curious vignettes tied together with the tenuous theme of magic and human foible. It’s dated, yet timeless, a classic dusty gem that glimmers in the sun like a desert rose and wafts like the thick aroma of Arabica coffee, on a hot dry wind from Vegas to nowhere.
The cast is a delight: Marianne Sagebrecht as Jasmin Munchgstettner, who’s “out of Rosenheim”, CCH Pounder as Brenda-at-the-end-of-her-tether, Jack Palance as ex-Hollywood scenic artist Rudi Cox, Darron Flagg as Brenda’s Bach-loving son Sal, Monica Calhoun as Brenda’s precocious daughter Phyllis, Christine Kaufmann as sultry resident tattooist Debby, and Apesanahkwat as plaited Native American Indian Sheriff Arnie, and of course, not forgetting the Sidewinder Café that became Bagdad Café for the movie (and subsequently changed its name to cash in on the film’s enormous success).
Director Adlon and cinematographer Bernd Heinl use Dutch tilts, filters and close-ups like they’re going on out of fashion. The movie’s rich palette gorgeously reflects the array of colourful characters that filter in and out of the movie’s desert-bound setting. But it’s all centered around Ms. Jasmin and the effect she has on everyone else. She brings an elusive quality to the frame, and to the bigger picture. When she starts to dabble with the magic set she finds in Brenda’s cluttered office things start to take on a new life. It’s not just the coffee maker/thermos her husband left by the side of the road that made its way into Bagdad Café and provided everyone with a much-needed pick-me-up. Jasmin is the zest the café craved.
The theme song, Calling You, by Bob Telson and sung by Jevetta Steele, which is played sporadically throughout the movie was nominated for an Academy Award and it’s a melancholic beauty that hasn’t aged at all. Also of note is Bach’s sublime C-Major Prelude from the Well Tempered Claviar, adding further emotive weight, especially in the scene where Jasmin sits quietly alongside Sal as he tickles the ivories and Rudi edges his seat closer and closer, his eyes and heart set on the fraulein.
Bagdad Café is an unassuming tale that quietly lingers in the soul and mind long after the burnt orange sun sets behind that little café just around the bend. Get yourself some of that boomerang magic and deep coffee, coming closer, sweet release, it’ll brighten up your day. “I … am calling you … Can’t you hear me?”
VIDEO CLIP/TEASER TRAILER:
Bagdad Cafe DVD is courtesy of Umbrella Entertainment, many thanks!
My eyes welled up with tears at the memory of this movie. I haven’t seen it in such a long time, but I love it so much. It is pure magic. Beautiful. Thank you so much for bringing it back to my mind. This instant I started reading, that song Calling You started ringing in my brain. It is so haunting. I find myself humming it from time to time.
Now I simply must find it and possess it. Why don’t I already have it??? I remember the first time I watched it was on HBO quite a few years ago. It just reduced me to a pile of satisfied mush. As they do on HBO, the aired it a million times that month on HBO, and I think I watched it every time it was on.
Thanks, Bruno. Good choice.
Natalina said this on June 29, 2009 at 9:10 pm
Natalina, glad to hear my review provided you with the same sense of melancholic inspiration the movie possesses.
Bruno Dante said this on June 29, 2009 at 9:17 pm