IronWatcher’s review published on Letterboxd:
Watched in the cinema (81st visit in 2024)
In the first scene, "Bad Director" immediately sets its course. The title character penetrates the woman bent over a sink, panting, while she enjoys a kebab between bored moans of pleasure. Anyone who finds this downbeat description exaggerated, silly or shocking should probably be prepared to leave the theater before the credits roll. Oskar Roehler does not hesitate to offend and provoke controversy, and he gives the middle finger to the cinematic establishment in particular. The on-screen presentation combines satire, screaming fits and self-therapy from an artist whose cinematic alter ego is a fusion of intellectuality and Beavis & Butthead.
Oliver Masucci fights his way through the rudimentary plot, which consists of overflowing scenes that are sometimes played out almost defiantly to excess. At first glance, no great effort is apparent. The staging, as well as the acting of the cast, is simplified in a folksy way, but by no means without charm. On the contrary, the contrast between the often cartoon-like characters and the artificiality of the backdrops, which cannot be shaken off, creates interesting spaces for interpretation. It is not elegant. The "Bad Director" rages like a steamroller. Roehler pays little attention to etiquette and uses Masucci's character as a megaphone with the volume turned up. It feels like a liberating blow, but also like a thunderstorm from an artist who no longer wants to prove himself to anyone.
Roehler doesn't take the throne of righteousness. His alter ego is a scumbag, an intellectual jerk with a fetish for schoolgirl underwear who hates many things, but most of all himself. A man who demands recognition but can't (and sometimes doesn't want to) give it back. A monster that Masucci embodies ravishingly in totalitarian overacting mode with thickly applied masquerade and costumes. It's almost as if Roehler is kicking all expectations of authenticity in the teeth. This performance will not be to everyone's taste, and he has probably achieved his goal. "Bad Director" is out to displease us from front to back. It is a provocation that works with melancholy, pessimism, social criticism and self-referentiality.
This is reminiscent of the great provocateur of the French literary scene, Michel Houellebecq. One of his most successful novels was "The Elementary Particles", which Roehler adapted into a movie in 2006. After watching "Bad Director", it is hard to deny that Roehler has a lot of affection for Houellebecq. But the biggest literary allusion is hidden in the name of the Bad Director: Gregor Samsa. Undoubtedly no coincidence and probably chosen with ulterior motives, this name stands for one of the most important figures in art and literature when it comes to change and isolation. While Samsa transforms into a beetle in Kafka's "The Metamorphosis", the Samsa in Roehler's film has long since become an isolated insect. An annoying creature that is never sure whether it should rebel or give up. In the end, both options are too distasteful for him.
Ultimately, he struggles with compromises that only drive him further into misery and madness. "Bad Director" also feels like a compromise. For as venomous and poisonous as the provocation against the cultural sector, the art industry and egomaniacs may be, it doesn't really hurt. At least the film does provide a nice meta-gag (whether unintentional or intentional): in one scene, the film takes a brief, but quite sharp shot at German film funding. The very film funding that largely co-financed this adaptation of the novel "Selbstverfickung". There's something about that. It's wickedly funny, just like a hint of tragedy. As I said, this is about compromises.