I like the storyline of this show,it attract me so much

Don't listen to the negative reviews

An action-packed slog

A great movie, one of the best of this year. There was a bit of confusion at one point in the plot, but nothing serious.

This highly stylized and necessarily homoerotic adaptation of Jean Genet's "Querelle de Brest" goes limp, mostly whenever the annoying narrator interrupts. But is hard to dislike completely with Brad Davis (as Georges Querelle) leading the pack. You know he wants it. While he most certainly does not resemble his frequently mentioned as supposedly look-alike brother Davis, Hanno Pöschl (as Robert and Gil) is the second most valuable cast member, performing a "pas de deux" with Davis that unfortunately lacks a climax. No surprise to reveal the female member of the cast, 1950s beauty Jeanne Moreau (as Lysiane), appears wasted and washed-out compared to 1980s beauty Laurent Malet (as Roger Bataille) and the men. Franco Nero (as Lieutenant Seblon) tries to keep a straight face, looking at things from afar. Drug-overdosing before release, director Rainer Werner Fassbinder kept his distance.****** Querelle (8/31/82) Rainer Werner Fassbinder ~ Brad Davis, Hanno Poschl, Franco Nero, Jeanne Moreau

Rainer Werner Fassbinder once said that his oeuvre should be considered like that of a house, some parts are staircases and walls, other parts plumbing, but it should be considered a sturdy house. It's a good analogy, and for his (regrettably) final feature, Querelle, I suggest it's the sauna- a sauna lit with gaudy orange-yellows and loaded with overly serious homosexual theater patrons with occasional guest stars who should be in better rooms like Jeanne Moreau and Franco Nero. It ends up being some fun being in the room, but for completely all the wrong reasons. And, indeed, you may be totally befuddled by the look and feel of the sauna, with its stultifying heat making one feel, ultimately, more dull than dramatically engaged. It was also created in those final days of Fassbinder's, as a bloated coke-head who just earlier that year burned through one of his very best productions (Veronika Voss) only to, finally, burn out completely.Maybe Neil Young was wrong in his song, about the burn vs. rust, though in Fassbinder's case it was the only way. One can't help but see the passion in the project, an overtly theatrical and artificial film that has the subtitle "A Film About Jean Genet's Querelle". Genet, of course, was a scandalous poet/playwright in France, and he's inspired a few movies in his time. With this one, Fassbinder takes the sort of tactic Godard did in his later years- the lesser ones, arguably- as a blend develops between title cards, "authoritative" narration not too unlike the sort in Little Children, and an actual (if not very coherent) narrative of a sailor, Querelle, who gets gay sex for the first time, kills his opium dealer, gets embroiled in a mystery involving his boss, and somehow Jeanne Moreau's bar owner keeps an eye over everything more or less in-between her repeated song she sings.That, at least, is as much as I could figure. I really did want to give this a fair shot. I had read some negative reviews, but as well I read Marcel Carne's praise at the Venice film festival, that it would have a place in the HISTORY of CINEMA- in BOLD no less. And it's not even the homosexuality on display in and of itself that is a deterrent. It's the way Fassbinder goes about it; everything is so *serious*, so much without a hint of humor, that for a while I ended up straining to keep my eyes open. Brad Davis, and I'm not exaggerating in this description, is absolutely atrocious. He attempts to 'emote', but is so stilted and without any real trace of actual human sensitivity or connection to the other actors that he's like a slab of SPAM. Others like Gunther Kaufmann (in give or take a dozen Fassbinders) and the aforementioned Moreau and Nero are basically left to fend for their own devices... which aren't many, even with the oddly hypnotic Moreau.Ultimately, however, the film started to turn into something I didn't expect: camp. Oh man, is this a hoot of an art-house movie! There is a point, about two-thirds of the way through the running time, that the onslaught of completely useless narration- yeah, we get it, it's "about" the play, but why should we care the descriptions if we don't care about the actual empty-ass character- and deranged poetry of the title cards gets too much on top of the already inane, dead-pan dialog. I'm actually surprised this hasn't screened as a midnight movie from time to time in New York city, a movie that gay and straight can embrace as a film that is funnier and more ironically quotable than the trashiest melodrama Fassbinder couldn't have tried to concoct of his best day.Yes, Querelle is shot with a painterly eye, and yes its DoP Schwarzenberger provides a few stunning compositions, and then the rest of the time it's just... a dying fish of a movie. It's tail keeps flapping around and making movements, and it's a shame to realize that it will soon die by the end of the movie - and be the end of one of the most remarkable careers in modern cinema. Disappointment is putting it lightly.

A very difficult film, for many reasons. As a source novel, Genet's 'Querelle' presents a challenge for any adaptation but as this is R.W. Fassbinder's final work, one is compelled to ignore one's initial (poor) response and dig for signs of the vision seen elsewhere in his cannon.This is a film that unrelentingly refuses to let the viewer in. Narrative is piled upon narrative which is further punctuated by Brechtian title cards containing quotes from a variety of sources (including, of course, Genet's novel). The high stylisation of setting and performance is deliberately off putting and distancing. In this world of almost exclusive homosexual desire, women are severely marginalised which leaves the great Jeanne Moreau with little to do other than warble a rather ridiculous (and ridiculously catchy) pop ditty that uses Oscar Wilde's 'Ballad of Reading Gaol' for lyrics. Here, choice of sexuality is symbolic for how one stands in opposition to social rules and true fulfilment and depth of being comes only in humility and, ultimately, humiliation. Of course, much of this overtly gay posturing can be seen simply as high camp and add an undeniable veneer of silliness which is, quite frankly, hard to shake off.However, this is a deeply serious film. Maybe Fassbinder was simply looking to upset as many people as he could and the whole point is to alienate the viewer as much as possible, either into anger or submission. It's hard to fully know what to make of 'Querelle' but either way, although stunningly lit, it has little of the swagger or movement of his best work and comes across as rather staid and inert. But, again, possibly that's the point. Confusion and denial as to individual identity leads to frustration and random acts of violence (if only to oneself) and self imploding inertia. It's hard to criticise a film that is deliberate about these points but, ultimately, it is equally hard to like and finding a place for it is no easy task. Possibly a work to admire and provoke rather than one to enjoy.

10 for Camp Sensibility. You normal folks may rate it closer to zero.Querelle is Super Camp. It puts John Waters' "Female Trouble" to shame. Not even a drag-dripping Almodovar flick can evoke such gaiety. This film is audacious in its "seriousness" and demands you do the opposite. Now, other users have called it Village People-ish, amateurish, High Schooly, etc. but those are understatements. This film is funnier with each viewing. I have most of it committed to memory because my roommate and I in college used to watch it over and over (alternating with Pee Wee's Big Adventure and Law of Desire). I truly love the recycled actors/costumes/sets, the Tea Room Queen On High voice overs, the summer stock saturation of set lighting. And that fat queen buzzing around Jean Moreau is worth hitting rewind for. It's just one big costume party, and you're invited. I think if Fassbinder had tried to make it funny he'd have come short of the laughs that are there now. And, frankly, which of us gays couldn't enjoy 90 minutes of hunky Brad Davis in his silly sailor getup…dialogue be damned? You must love this unintentional satire. You'll be quoting it's lame lines for life."Each man kills the thing he loves…da de dum, da da de dum…" (Did Madame forget the lyrics again? I heard that happened to Peggy Lee in her linebacker years."I look like her." (Little Gay Roger coming onto Gil, who likes Roger's sister) "Is there anybody else who wants to...me? PLEASE!" "When Madame Lysiane found herself before Querelle, her gaze went to his fly in spite of herself." (It goes down from there) "You? You're just a woman." (Followed much later by, "Look at him! Big Nono, the best stallion that ever existed!") The jilted Lysiane huffs, "You mah ememy!" PLEASE watch this film expecting nothing...and you will gain everything. "Da De Dumb, Da Da De Dumb."