The American Soldier

There's a backstory to this man that doesn't really matter. What matters is that he's a killer, and, inevitably, he's being hunted. He's Ricky (Karl Scheydt), a laconic gun for hire whose low, gruff voice languorously warns his victims that they're about to be shot. He seems heartless, almost bored with people, knocks people around and keeps whisky by his side. In the great Rainer Werner Fassbinder's film THE AMERICAN SOLDIER, Ricky slowly makes his way through his old hometown of Munich, Germany, visiting everyone from whores to victims to his mom. There's so little emotion in his face (even his hat often puts his features in shadows) that you wonder whether he even matters. But he seems to. The three men trying to kill him watch his every move. When he asks for a whore at his hotel room, one of the three sends his girlfriend. She takes offense and plans to run away with Ricky, but we question whether this is even a legitimate care, or just a way out. Fassbinder's film is astonishing in its composition. From a long scene of well choreographed cardplayers to striking black and white images intertwined with brisk camera movements as if to wake us up from a daze, the film is inventive and rather beautiful. Also, Fassbinder's backstory to Ricky as an American turned German killer to be killed by Germans is a grand statement on the motives of nations mired in the seemingly stagnant political convictions of Germany despite their insistence to weed out people like Ricky. I admit that portions of Fassbinder's intentional languor dragged a bit, and for all the style and authenticity and homage to American gangster films, the story was perhaps not so important. Regardless, THE AMERICAN SOLDIER is a compelling piece of work.
The American Soldier: ★★★1/2