Viking Night: Run Lola Run
By Bruce Hall
April 7, 2010
BoxOfficeProphets.com

The poor woman is on the outside looking in at The Bourne Ultimatum.

There are many reasons that certain films achieve what we call "cult" status, but one of them is that they tend to deliver their message in subversive or controversial ways that don't appeal to everyone. While it's true that most people do not like to work for their entertainment, is it possible that even the most unusual films can have something to offer everyone? When I was in college, a group of friends and I would meet regularly to ponder this very question. Beginning with Erik the Viking, we gathered once a week to watch and discuss a different cult classic, but we decided to keep the Viking theme. Now, I'll be working without a turkey leg or a goblet of mead, but with each installment of Viking Night I still seek to examine the same question: Can a film with such limited appeal still speak to us all?

In an old episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, the crew of the Enterprise finds themselves trapped in a "time loop" that sees them repeating the same two weeks without their knowledge. Each time the loop was replayed, members of the crew began to slowly piece together events from past repetitions and learn from mistakes they'd made. Eventually, of course, our heroes managed to solve the conundrum and save themselves, just in time for the last commercial.

Much was made of the benefit one could theoretically derive from having the opportunity to replay a troubling portion of their life again and again, until they'd learned enough to get it right. The always wise Captain Picard reminded his crew that life does not give us any such luxury; we're given the time we are given, we make the choices we make and we must live with the consequences. But the suggestion was that personal will, not fate, dictates the course of our lives and gives each of us the chance to take control of our destiny. This of course is not a new idea in literature or cinema, but I brought up this example for a reason. While the movie we'll look at this week is not science fiction, it has been analyzed many times by many capable voices in the twelve years since its release. And while I don't anticipate I'll add much of anything new to the discussion I just wanted to be one of the relatively few who can say that the first time they saw Run Lola Run, they immediately thought of that one Star Trek episode in particular.

Released in 1998 by German wunderkind Tom Tykwer, Run Lola Run is more commonly compared to films such as Sliding Doors, Groundhog Day, or – bonus points if you've seen it – Blind Chance. But while it does toy with the space-time continuum in a similar way, Lola is far less demure than Sliding Doors, less cute than Groundhog Day, and less esoteric than Blind Chance. And having been crafted at the tail end of the music video age, Run Lola Run tackles similar issues as these other films, but in an entirely unique way. But despite its novelty, Tykwer's stylish sensory assault contains far more nuance, depth and character than may be immediately evident to the casual viewer.

Just as I'd encourage newcomers not to be put off by Sliding Doors as a romantic comedy, or Blind Chance as a cerebral foreign film, I would discourage the common dismissal of Run Lola Run as simply an extended music video or live action video game. The look and feel of this filmis deliberately unique, but there's more happening in each frame than meets the eye. If you've ever replayed an event over and over in your mind wondering what you might have done differently to change it for the better, you may find yourself considering it again over the course of this movie.



The story begins with a frantic phone call from Manni (Moritz Bleibtreu) to his girlfriend Lola (Franke Potente). He is a small-time gopher for a local hood who's been given a simple job to test his worthiness for bigger assignments. She is a chronically unemployed slacker, idling her way through life. Manni enlists her help for the drop, but thanks to an unfortunate blunder Manni loses the money he's collected and now has 20 minutes to somehow deliver $100,000 to his boss – or else. After a terse conversation, he concludes that his only option is to rob a nearby store to replace the missing cash.

Desperate to keep the situation from escalating further, Lola remembers that her father is manager of a bank. She dashes out the door toward his office, in hopes of borrowing enough money from him in time to save her lover's life. It's an intentionally simple premise, but over the next 20 minutes, Lola and Manni discover how the smallest actions can produce reverberations that profoundly affect the lives of many people. With the benefit of hindsight, all of us can see where we've made mistakes, and what we might have done to prevent them. But in the heat of the moment, in the midst of panic, our world compresses and the ramifications of haste are often impossible to foresee. On the surface, it's a small idea; an ordinary girl who's never accomplished anything suddenly has 20 minutes to raise enough money to save someone's life – but it's the biggest thing she'll ever have to do.

And it becomes something infinitely more important as the film examines how each step Lola and Manni take influences not only their own fates, but how brief interaction with several other characters causes them to run into one another over and over again, changing the lives of each in stark, contrasting ways. To this end, the film turns the traditional three act story arc on its head, giving Lola three "runs" in which to complete her task and telling three subtly different stories using the same characters and settings. It would be simple to dismiss this as lazy storytelling, but to do so would be to miss the entire point of the concept.

As Lola sprints through the streets of Berlin and Manni debates his next move, what seems to be meaningless interactions with supporting characters (five, in particular) turn out to have significant impact. On each "run," the decisions she makes cause her to arrive a split second late here, a split second early there – and the results echo through this circle of characters, creating a very different end for each scenario. Rarely do we consider how the most critical moments of our lives often boil down to a series of small coincidences entirely unknown to us, and if we had the chance to do it all again moving two steps to the left or two steps to the right might have changed everything!

But Tykwer gives the audience little time to openly dwell on the film's philosophical underpinnings. This is a story that is meant to be absorbed viscerally, right down to its title. And Lola does run, a lot, and we follow her as she makes her way across the city adorned with bright red hair, a disheveled Gen-X wardrobe and desperation painted across her face – pushing the pace of the film through force of will. The plot's urgency is augmented by an almost constant, pulsing trance soundtrack and an ever present sense of movement and visual definition. As is often pointed out, much of the film deliberately apes the feel of a music video, but where most music videos are frivolous nonsense, Lola uses melody, color and motion as discrete plot mechanisms to adjust the level of energy and to tell us subtle things about its characters.



An obsessive filmmaker since childhood, Tykwer also infuses his narrative with large doses of seemingly everything in his arsenal – jump cuts, screen wipes, slow motion, crane shots, steady cam, whip pans, split screen, black and white, animation – and the list goes on. But what could easily have been a pretentious jumble simply works, thanks no doubt to a great deal of painstaking post production and the fact that every shot has a purpose. Sequences involving Lola and Manni are captured in 35mm while all other shots are filmed in video, the handheld camera giving even subdued scenes an undercurrent of tension. But more important, it visually separates the two principal characters from the rest of the cast in an almost subliminal way, and contributes to the film's most important element – the relationship between Lola and Manni.

At the beginning of the film, we learn a bit about this through the couple's distraught phone conversation as well as their physical mannerisms. Manni is a lovable buffoon who requires the approval of others, while Lola is a rudderless delinquent who nonetheless is the stronger of the two. Eventually, we feel a connection between them, but at first it's just as easy to assume that those who put so little effort into their lives somehow deserve the misfortune they often receive. And in fact, the first two "runs" end rather poorly for the couple as each character makes critical mistakes that cost them dearly. But it is between the three acts that the movie pauses and gives us a more intimate and valuable view of the two characters.

Lola and Manni are deeply in love, yet their trust has been shattered by the debacle of the failed money exchange and the possibility that death is about to separate them. Lola worries that Manni loves having a girlfriend more than he loves having her. Manni is a needy fatalist, and wonders whether Lola would even mourn him if he did die. Each carries this nervous agitation alongside their panic in each of the three runs, and the effect it has on their judgment ultimately determines how it ends each time. They are given three chances to come to the right conclusions and ultimately discover that they must gather their wits and lean on each other in order to survive not just this ordeal, but as a couple. It's really these two short scenes in the first third of the movie that unify the plot, justify the tension of the story and Lola and Manni a soul.

Run Lola Run is somewhat coy about whether or not this story takes place within a surreal environment where the characters literally re-live the same event repeatedly (a la Groundhog Day) or whether it simply offers us hypothetical outcomes, leaving it for us to decide (a la Sliding Doors). There answer is there if you watch for it, but that's probably less relevant than the question posed – how would you change your life, if you could? Each time the scenario plays out Lola and Manni learn something about themselves and about their shared little world, refining their approach as well as their personal relationship.

At a brisk 80 minutes, the film is barely longer than the season finale of your favorite television show. But for those observant enough to catch it all on the first viewing this short film is full of surprising depth as well as energy, color, fun and excitement enough for a feature half again as long. It truly is one of the rare films I can say I occasionally enjoy watching over again, as there's something new to observe each time, and it always feels as fresh and fun as it did the first time.

I just wish I could say that old Star Trek episode has aged as well.