Premiering at the Rotterdam Film Festival in 1996, United Trash was one of the last films of Christoph Schlingensief, a German artist who began in filmmaking before transitioning into more performative arts. Going from avant garde attacks on traditional narratives to gross out political comedies about the scars of German history, the one thing that is common across all of his projects is chaos: characters are loudmouthed and uncompromising, the camerawork is often unsteady, and there is something offensive in nearly every scene. It’s a highly divisive style and I would love to devote a full article or podcast episode to Schlingensief and his works, but alas, I have a word limit and cannot spend upwards of five hours recording. However, if you are so inclined (and don’t mind doing a little hunting), I highly recommend Egomania: Island Without Hope, Mother’s Mask, and The German Chainsaw Massacre for further viewing.
Does that sound like a lot? Don’t worry, it is. Clocking in at 74 minutes, United Trash does not beat around the bush when it comes to squeezing every little detail into it, to the point where it's seeping out of your screen and making a mess on your television set. Much of the imagery in this is truly disgusting and offensive: a few memorable bits include mother-son incest, an unfortunately necessary infant rape joke, a small child (played by a little person) with an oozing vagina-penis on his head, and Udo Kier dancing in front of an audience of locals wearing only his general hat, a banana skirt, and blackface (or black upper body, if you want to get technical). Believe me, there is much more I am omitting. Needless to say it was difficult to promote this on Instagram.
At this point you are probably asking me “what value do you see in this? Isn't this exactly what the title promises… TRASH?” A
nd to that I say, fair. United Trash was one of my first truly shocking films, and about 20 minutes in I felt so overwhelmed in my own room that I needed to take an hour’s walk to decompress. I was quite green coming in, and felt covered in various unknown fluids coming out. I didn’t quite know what to make of it, but it lived in my head for about a month (during October too, when all I care about is Halloween) before I decided to rewatch and take notes. Then, I got it. I just did. I understood where Schlingensief was coming from, where this sarcastic rage came from, and it was oddly cathartic.
r it may be). Even if he’s bickering with Bishop Pierre, Brenner never does anything to truly curb the effect of an overbearing religion on vulnerable people, and at times even works with them to get his son back. Martha is in hysterics most of the film, being the mother of a supposed savior but being subjected to brainwashing by the Bishop, before realizing that she has quite literally been sleeping with the enemy. And then there is baby Peter Panne… disfigured by the actions of his parents, locked in a hospital for five years, and the center of attention when he comes back. I like to think of him as some fucked up version of Jesus that never really wanted the attention.
Parker S.
