In The White City

Bruno Ganz stars as Paul, a sailor who jumps ship in Lisbon, walks around the city (a lot), and has an affair with a barmaid/chambermaid named Rosa (Teresa Madruga) at the hotel where he's staying. Self-referential in the truly tedious way that only art films can offer, Paul documents his walks with a handheld 8mm camera, and then sends the film back to his wife in Germany. The wife, in turn, posts her replies back to Paul with occasionally cryptic remarks ("if you want to play, try to deal the cards better.") Very little is said during the film, partially, one supposes, because filmmaker Tanner appears to have very little to say (no script was used--the crew simply improvised from day to day). What makes the film halfway tolerable is the acting of Ganz (Wings of Desire), who is a charismatic presence, regardless of the lackadaisical story; and director Alain Tanner's use of color, which is often quite striking. But when Paul, during the closing moments of In the White City, says "I know no more than before," he is echoing the audience's sentiments exactly. Audience: For those who not only understand what "existential angst" is, but also care. Optional.  (R. Pitman)