The Color of Soul | Review

German film of romance and singing don’t make the pair.

Only three days into the festival and I’ve officially had what I’ll call a Brown Bunny moment, which refers to the reaction that Vincent Gallo got for his film at Cannes this year. This no budget German number called The Color of Soul (Die Fabre Der Seele) by director Helma Sanders-Brahms attempts dearly to give us the off-beat romance from a middle-aged perspective within this common love for singing, but what we get is closer to the best off the worst auditions episode from the television show American Idol.

When an unemployed somewhat confused nurse (Eva Mattes) takes in a voiceless jazz singer Barry White type fellow (Gilbert Diop) their common passion for singing pushes them to ‘make music’ together in both senses of the word, but what we get are a bunch of agonizing, painstakingly hard-to-watch series of dry sequences, which never explain the passion that links them together nor does it describe the complexities of why they should even be together. This film seems content on waiting for that one little cute moment to charm the viewer who has to deal with characters that are sporadic in the human emotions department. What is especially confusing is how the same characters emotions seem to change from what the previous sequence showed us just moments ago.

This film sluggishly drags on until the unbearably happy jam session ending which makes Yoko Ono look like a talented singer. If it feels a tad too long perhaps it’s because there are barely any cuts and the characters are really not saying anything and nor are they feeling anything before the camera. Instead, the film makes a point out of showing us its characters in the contextual everyday situations, but unfortunately we never do get to understand the dynamics of the film’s characters, why should their romance flourish? Why should this singer fall for this same weight category type of gal who is the least bit interested in him? and why should this black monster haphazardly decide that she will become his muse?

If Sanders-Brahms could have used made the character of the wacko downstairs neighbor into the protagonist’s mother then the whole take on color of skin being linked to terroristic activities wouldn,t be just a cheap laugh and perhaps it would give a reason as to why the two should really get together. Not only is The Color of Soul a hard watch but it’s a hard listen, I almost feel like washing myself with a video rental of Justin and Kelly.

Rating 0.5 stars