Martin Suter on set: filming under a layer of clouds
16.7.2020
Translation: Patrik Stainbrook
Martin Suter, bestselling Swiss author, is making his first full-length cinema documentary. On set, one thing quickly becomes clear: a film shoot can be ruined by a single cloud.
Martin Suter is an author. But he's not just anybody. He's one of the most widely read German writers.
He's also a screenwriter, sometimes a songwriter, a former columnist for the Weltwoche, Tagesanzeiger and NZZ, and quite a while ago a copywriter for the renowned Basel agency GGK. His international breakthrough came in 1995 with Small World. 15 years later, the book was made into a film with Gérard Dépardieu in the leading role – one of many adaptations of his books.
Now the bestselling Swiss author, who's even highly regarded abroad, is getting his very own full-length cinema documentary. The film is shot in Oerlikon. Überbauung Beckhammer. Yellowish 1950s apartment blocks alternate with spacious green areas and old trees. Bland but sweet at the same time. Suter lived here until he was five years old.
A scene from the novel «Die Zeit, die Zeit» is currently being filmed. It was published by Diogenes in 2012. Two crews are on set. One at street level, the other inside the three-storey apartment block in some musty old apartment on the first floor.
DCM Film Distribution, the production company, has invited the press to visit the set. This includes me. Armed with pen and paper. I'm not allowed to ask questions. Just be a fly on the wall.
That's what I did.
Of crews and rain clouds
«We have two options.»
A woman, around 30 years old. Maybe in her late 20s. Her long brown hair is pinned up. Her voice sounds slightly hectic. But not shrill. Her clothes are loose. An olive green t-shirt and black jeans. The shoes look comfortable. Sneakers. Worn out. Typical for someone who's on their feet a lot. The camera assistant?
«We can place the camera here, in the garden, or over there, on the balcony.»
«Let's try over there,» a middle-aged man replies. A red plaid cap rests on his bald head. He's got a black T-shirt. Work clothes. He looks scrawny. But he grabs the large tripod with an ease that hints more power than is visible to the naked eye. A 20 year-old is hot on his heels, carrying the heavy film camera on his shoulders. His pants are short and worn. He mumbles something that nobody hears or understands.
There's a crackling. It's coming from a radio. All ten film crew members wear one on their waistband.
«How's it looking out there,» a man's voice says on the radio. «Will there be clouds in the next few minutes?»
That could have been someone responsible for the lighting in the stuffy apartment where the other crew is shooting. Depending on the amount of light, the whole scenery could change. That's bad news for a film in which every shot is supposed to be continuous.
The woman with the comfortable shoes looks up to the sky, frowning worriedly, before picking up the radio and speaking into it.
«We may soon have a whole other problem.»
Pause.
«Rain.»
A feature-length documentary is filmed
«We've got to hurry. Damn it. The app didn't show that this morning.»
The sneaker woman says this more to herself than to the crew. She keeps looking at her cell phone. Checking the weather app. Before gazing upwards again. Trying to scare away the approaching rain cloud. Somewhere in the background, workers are fixing some last details on a terrace. Something breaks. Someone curses.
The terrace – located on the opposite side of the apartment block – belongs to the character Knupp from «Die Zeit, die Zeit». Knupp believes in the theory of gravimotion. Gravimotion denies the existence of time. All there is is change. And change creates the illusion of time.
In the novel, Knupp and his neighbour Taler – Taler being the actual main character – want to prove this. They do this by arranging the entire environment exactly as it is depicted in photos from a very specific day in 1991. If the experiment worked, these two would put the plot a different course – and bring their deceased wives back to life.
While the outside crew sets up the camera on the street, a man with noble cloth trousers and a black jacket approaches. Or is it midnight blue? Either way, the gold tie suits it perfectly. Those shoes look expensive. His medium-length, raven black hair is combed back. The dark sunglasses hide his eyes while having style. Then the man removes them. Revealing his face.
Martin Suter.
Martin Suter enters the set
This is Martin Suter's story. Nevertheless, scenes from Suter's novels are staged. Suter walks into them, tells whatever he has to tell about himself, about the book or about life itself. Then he walks into the next set piece.
On the Beckhammer film set, the best-selling author is supposedly walking along the street just as a suspicious Taler looks out of his window over to Knupp's terrace.
A simple thing? Not at all.
Rehearsal comes first. Suter is crossing the street. The cameras aren't rolling. But his path is checked down to the millimetre. Suter crosses the street again. A slight correction. A new approach. Then again.
«The lighting is too intense.»
The bald camera operator instructs the young man with worn trousers to get a wooden frame and cover it with a cloth. He runs off nodding.
«Mr. Suter? Please take a step back. Yes. That's it. No, stop. Forward a bit. Now to the left. Perfect. Mark, please!»
The sneaker woman takes two bright pink adhesive strips and sticks them together in a T-shape to form a mark. Then she places them where Suter's patent leather shoes are. Suddenly, they're the centre of attention. There's nothing more exciting right now than Martin Suter's patent leather shoes.
The young assistant is back. He's holding a big wooden frame. A white cloth covers it. It's not meant to give shade. It should diffuse, i.e. solve the problem of hard lighting. In technical terms, the construct is called «softbox». While the camera operator peers through the lens and gives instructions – perhaps he's operator and assistant director in one – the assistant director mounts the frame on a tripod.
This being the tripod that the sneaker woman had just addressed with «can someone put that thing away!?»
The home-made diffuser is in position about two metres above the ground. The shoot can go on. Or start.
«There. Cameras rolling. And action!»
Suter takes a step.
«Cut!»
A resident wants to turn onto Beckhammer in his car. He's ruining the picture. But the crew makes room and lets him through.
«Alright. Again. All in position. Camera rolling. And…»
«Wait, stop!»
That was the director from across the street. The fact that he hasn't attracted attention so far isn't due to his stature. He's big, broad and brawny. His sonorous voice strong and decisive. His gaze is fixed on a monitor. It depicts what the camera operator sees through his lens. The problem: the clouds that covered the sun just a moment ago have moved.
The sneaker woman rejoices inwardly. I'm sure she is. But the camera guy curses. Five minutes go by. Then ten. Nothing happens. Everyone's waiting. No one's been thinking about rain for a long time now.
Suddenly, the light is gone again.
«Boys, is anything happening out there,» the radio crackles questioningly.
In the apartment, Taler's actor has been standing at the window for what feels like an eternity. But dark clouds have again pushed themselves in front of the sun. One worker says he even feels the occasional drop of rain. This is all taking far too long. Nervousness is rising. The sneaker woman looks at her mobile phone again.
The best-selling author, however, stands there stoically. Avoiding a fuss. Tranquillity personified. If he's angry, he won't let on.
«Shall we get Mr. Suter an umbrella? Come on, I'll get him a black umbrella,» the sneaker woman says. The camera operator doesn't notice them. He's lost his patience.
«We're moving on. Everyone in position? Good. Camera rolling. And action!»
Martin Suter takes his steps. Slowly. After about two metres, he looks over his right shoulder up to Taler and walks another meter.
«And cut! Perfect. Thank you, Mr. Suter. The scene is set.»
The shoot is filmmaking in its purest form. Martin Suter had to walk up three metres of road. A two second scene in the finished film. Dozens of crew members, a sneaker woman, a camera operator, a director and a Swiss star are involved in its creation. Pure shooting time: about one hour.
Suter smiles. Satisfied. Turning to the crew. Then he pulls the sunglasses out of his pocket. Puts them on. His mouth opens. He wants to say something. He finally spits it out. His voice is calm. No frills. And the author comes across exactly as he intended.
«Wasn't I good?»
«Martin Suter – Der Mann hinter den Geschichten» is directed by André Schäfers. Schäfer himself is a German documentary film director, known for works such as 2014's «Deutschboden» and 2007's «Herr von Bohlen privat».
The documentary will be shown in cinemas starting autumn 2021.
Luca Fontana
Senior Editor
Luca.Fontana@digitecgalaxus.chI'm an outdoorsy guy and enjoy sports that push me to the limit – now that’s what I call comfort zone! But I'm also about curling up in an armchair with books about ugly intrigue and sinister kingkillers. Being an avid cinema-goer, I’ve been known to rave about film scores for hours on end. I’ve always wanted to say: «I am Groot.»
