Amoeba Music

Tangents are something I try to avoid, but this film brought to mind a certain phenomenon that helped me relate to and understand its energy. When a person gets their first tattoo or piercing, especially when they're young, they'll often be met with a patronizing lecture from an elder. The question, “Do you want that on your skin when you're old?” is usually the first of the interrogation, the second being, “Is what the tattoo means really that important?” Like many youngsters, I got my first tattoo and felt marked and personalized at the time. I was an individual who saw herself devoted to certain things; I wanted to carry them with me always. A few years passed and I became less outspoken and devoted to other things. By early adulthood, my piercings had been removed, my hair was no longer tousled and my subversive literature was donated to the Goodwill. There wasn't a loathing for the tattoos—the only thing I couldn't get rid of and the only thing linking me to my past self. The feeling towards them was more fascination. I learned to wear the markings with pride, though it had nothing to do with the symbols or what they represented. They have crystallized many feelings that I used to have; aggression, radicalism, passion, and overpowering self-love. I look at them to be reminded of that.

What to Do in Case of Fire is the story of punk anarchists who grew up and, for the most part, carried on lives that would have been considered "selling out" in their youth. The year was 1987, and a group of young people were fed up with their unsuccessful riots and the obscurity of their homemade propaganda films. They decided to make one final film, How to Make a Homemade Bomb, and, using chemicals, feces, and a cooking pan, they tell their non-existent audience how to assemble the bomb, dispose of the evidence and leave it in an abandoned building. The bomb didn't go off, though.

A decade passes and the abandoned building with the bomb goes up for sale. When the relator and the potential buyer attempt to enter the empty building, they reactivate the explosive content and the bomb explodes, leaving them hospitalized. On the case is Manowsky (Klaus Löwitsch), a 60-year-old work horse in the police department who's dealt with the worst of anarchist and terrorist groups in West Berlin. He issues a crackdown of the hold hot spots, zeroing in on a certain street with abandoned buildings that used to house some of the more aggressive groups. Two of the bomb's planters, Tim (Til Schweiger) and Hotte (Martin Feifel), still live in the same building on that aforementioned street. The police raid their home and take away tools and several film reels that Tim and Hotte have held onto, one of which contains the bomb-making short. The police are unaware that they've encountered the guilty party, and they store their confiscated films in the police barracks along with that of every other anarchist nesting ground that was raided. The newspapers headline the case and inform the public that they've come to the conclusion that the bomb is at least 11-years-old, so they're looking for all the old-time trouble makers. Tim and Hotte decide to contact their old friends and inform them that, if those films are seen, they could be pinned for attempted murder.

For Tim and Hotte, who've more or less stayed the same since the early days, the reunion comes as a slap in the face. The old “Group 36” has become a gang of capitalists, yuppies and breeders. Maik (Sebastian Blomberg) is a graphic designer with a sportscar; Flo (Doris Schretzmayer) is the fiance of a very rich man; Robert, a.k.a. Terror (Matthias Matschke), is a businessman who studied law; Nele (Nadja Uhl) is a single mother of two who's a preschool teacher. The news brings a ruckus to their quiet lives, and some opt to turn themselves in. When that option is rejected by the majority, the group decides to try and infiltrate the police barracks and carry out one of two goals; steal the incriminating footage or destroy it the way they used to destroy everything—blow it up. The film goes through their hilarious and heartbreaking trial and error as they evade Manowsky and the police, fight with each other, accept that the times have changed and, in a sense, fall back in love with who they were as anarchists punks even if it's only temporary and only because they want to save themselves from prison.

More than a story about anarchy, the film has a bold message about friendship. It shines a light on how a person's career choices, relationship choices, and the choice to procreate might alter or even destroy the bonds you once had with your closest pals. The movie also lets you meditate on forgiveness and second chances. In short, this is a heist movie that has as much fun as it does a conscience. You'll laugh and be quite paranoid from start to finish. On top of that, the cinematography is stunning and the music—a mixture of German punk and American alternative rock—is sure to set the mood for good times and harsh lessons. Highly Recommended.