The Keep dir. Michael Mann

Staying focused on Michael Mann's distinctive and varied repertoire I had the privilege of attending a screening of his second film The Keep (1983) at the BFI on Tuesday. As I explained last week I'm an avid fan of Mann and Heat, his seminal 1995 heist thriller set in the mesmerizing night scape of LA is surely one of the most complete and brilliant films of that decade. I took the liberty of delving into Amazon's back catalog a few days after Public Enemies and ordered a number of Mann's older and possibly better works to add to my DVD collection. I saw The Insider when I was perhaps thirteen and I am looking forward to updating my memories of a starkly visual film overwrought with slow motion stills of Russel Crowe walking through revolving doors. Of the other two films I purchased: Manhunter and Thief I know little, though both have been critically lauded with Manhunter hailed by many as a superior Hannibal Lecktor film to Silence of the Lambs.
Anyway back to The Keep and my reasons for wishing to discuss its relative merits and faults. I was intrigued during my trawls through IMDB to see that Mann's little known second film had no DVD release and indeed Amazon had a solitary VHS copy of the film available for a full £45, perhaps the most expensive Video Tape of a major release in the world? With an amazing stroke of good fortune a friend had noticed The Keep was being screened at the BFI this week and eager to gain the privilege of seeing Mann's most obscure work we hastily bought tickets.
On viewing the film we were certainly taken aback. One clear reason for the reticence of Paramount to re-master the movie and release it on DVD is its highly ambiguous nature. The Keep, with its Eighties synths, scratchy visuals, juddering camera work, bizarre plot and cheap visual effects is about as far removed from the slick digital accuracy of Public Enemies as it is possible to imagine. Following a group of jaded Nazi soldiers protecting a lonely rural mountain pass in Romania during the closing stages of WWII Mann draws upon the traditions of typical European fairy tale and the experience of Eastern European Jews to create a strange tale dominated by the doomed Medieval Keep at the heart of the Romanian village. It is from this sinister building that a strange force, often illustrated using a number of smoke machines strapped to a red light, emanates wreaking violent destruction on the Nazi invaders and our three other protagonists: a Jewish history scholar, his beautiful daughter and a beguiling traveler who somehow seduces said daughter into one of the strangest and least erotic sex-scenes ever committed to celluloid.
In many ways The Keep is a product of its time. Indeed Mann himself is quoted as saying 'the production design and form of the film were in better shape than its content' and in many respects he is right. The rhythm and physical setting of the action is impressive, the cast fantastic (Sir Ian McKellen, Scott Glenn and Gabriel Byrne) and the aspiration of director and producer is resolutely profound. Mann has set out to reformulate the Fairy Tale in a complex context of fascist intimidation and magical realism and he largely succeeds. But this is clearly a work constrained by budget, by location (North Wales) and by the film making standards of the era. Had it been produced in 2008 The Keep would struggle to attract a viewer on You Tube, let alone secure funding and a release from a major studio, it lacks a professional cohesiveness and seems almost primitive when compared to astounding films such as Blade Runner from a similar era. There are hints at a bright future with neat visuals, the enduring concept of the challenging heist (when Nazi soldiers attempt to prise a silver cross of the wall) and acute attention to detail, whilst the soundtrack by TangerineDream is penetrating and suitably dazed for the pastoral fantasy playing out before our eyes.
In short The Keep is certainly not worth splashing £45 for the VHS. Neither is it worth £5 on DVD but for serious Michael Mann fans it is a beguiling example of a director learning and developing a specific vision and a unique and very special set of skills.