by Lisa Adamowicz Kless

In 1941, Helga Schneider’s mother said goodbye to her and walked away, leaving both the little girl and her younger brother in a relative‘s care, apparently never looking back.  Helga’s first reunion with her mother wouldn’t happen until nearly thirty years later.  Her mother’s reason for leaving her children and her former life behind? To serve as a high-ranking member of Hitler’s SS, working in some of the most notorious concentration camps in Europe: Auschwitz, Birkenau and Ravensbruck.

Let Me Go is a riveting memoir by Schneider, detailing her second, and last, visit with her mother.  By this time, her mother was in her late eighties and in declining health, suffering from dementia or other memory impairments.  However, she has stunning, chilling clarity when recalling her days as an SS guard.  Written in a style that combines the story of that visit with childhood memories and stream of consciousness questions towards her mother, readers get pulled into Schneider’s struggle.  How can she find some sort of peace with the past: both her own and her mother’s, tied together with a tenuous thread of shared DNA and a sense of obligation?

Author Helga Schneider  in 1941, and her brother, Peter

Having studied WWII-era history in college, I knew some of the vile details of the Nazi regime and had seen some of the wrenching footage of the skeletal bodies piled up as the Allies came in to liberate the death camps.  But in the book, as Schneider delves deeper into her conversation with her mother, more terrible information is revealed.  It leaves her---and the reader---with yet more questions.  How could people commit such atrocities against other people, day after day? And how could her mother seemingly “forget” her children, living with luxuries like champagne and silk stockings, while they nearly starved, and hundreds of people were being put to death just yards away from where her mother was sleeping at night? It’s a maze that Schneider can’t seem to get free of; as she asks more and more questions of her mother, hoping to finally get some answers that will help her to make some sense of the past, she finds that some things don‘t change, despite the passage of so much time.

While reading Let Me Go, my heart couldn’t help but ache for Schneider, who’s so completely torn.  On one hand, she doesn’t feel a real sense of love for her mother, and during this last visit chronicled in the book, as her mother tries to grab her hands, hug and kiss her, and asks her to call her “Mutti” (an affectionate diminutive of the German word for mother), Schneider is physically repelled by the gestures.  In fact, the physical reactions experienced by Schneider are vivid and prevalent throughout the book.  She’s on the verge of panic and feels ill as she prepares to go to the Seniorenheim (senior nursing home) where her mother resides. And while she’s there talking to her, many of the same negative gut reactions keep happening.  Still, she’s pressed on by wanting answers, by wanting to know the truth of what happened and what her mother was possibly thinking and feeling during all of that time.  Alternating between an urge to just flee and get back to the safety of her own life and an urge to keep pushing for her mother to make the revelations, as a reader, I could feel the tenseness in my own body at times.  I, too, wanted Schneider to fight the unease she was feeling and keep going.  Like her, question upon question was bubbling up, and a desire to try to grasp some sort of understanding of how a person could do the things she’d done, and how one could so completely rationalize and justify them.  Like her daughter, I wanted even just a hint of reassurance that with the threat of her own death (had she been suspected of disloyalty to the Fuhrer) far behind her, that she feels deep regret and remorse.

In one of the more powerful flashbacks of the book, Schneider recalls how, during her first visit with her mother almost thirty years prior, her mother told her to hold out her hands, and then heaped gold jewelry into them.  “For a moment, I look uncomprehendingly at all that gold.  Then I understood, and it was if my hands were on fire.”  Her mother is offended when she refuses to accept the gold jewelry; jewelry that belonged to the former concentration camp prisoners, and Schneider is horrified as a particular piece stands out: a small,  delicate necklace that she’s sure must have belonged to a very young child who had been led to the gas chambers.

Helga's mother, with Helga's son, Renzo, during their first visit in 1971

She also recounts a time from her childhood when she came face to face with Hitler himself, as a "guest" in his bunker.  She explains that, as part of a propaganda campaign in 1944, she and her brother went to the underground compound with hundreds of other children to receive food and medicine.  Not only that, but as he passed by the group, he shook hands with them.  Schneider's description of Hitler is one of the most unique that I've read, given through the perspective of a child's eyes.

Without revealing too much, I’ll just say that at the end of the book, we’re left, like Schneider, to take the revelations and try to comprehend them simply for what they are, and as ugly as some of them might be.  No easy answers are given, and no loose ends are really tied up neatly.

While this is definitely not an easy book to read, purely based on its subject matter and some of the details that it contains, it’s powerful, and I would argue, historically important.  More than that, it verges on a psychological study that grips the reader and stays with them, even after the last sentence is read and the book has been closed.

To read a brief biography of Helga Schneider's life and find out more about her other books, visit her website at: www.helgaschneider.com.

by Dave Gourdoux


Jack Nicholson and Faye Dunaway in "Chinatown"

I’m always surprised, when talking to younger film buffs, by the number of them who have never seen Roman Polanski’s “Chinatown”, or  how unaware they are of 1970s cinema.   They find it hard to believe that the same decade that produced leisure suits and disco was also the golden age of American film history. 

But it’s true; the 70s represented a true renaissance in movie making.  Young directors like Martin Scorsese, Francis Ford Coppola, Steven Spielberg, Robert Altman and Terrence Malik were coming of age and establishing themselves as giants, while established European directors John Boorman and Polanski were making insightful examinations of American culture.  Woody Allen was making the transformation from brilliant stand-up comedian to serious artist.   Older masters, like John Huston and Stanley Kubrick, were still making great films, while other major American directors of the 1960s, like Arthur Penn and Sydney Lumet and Mike Nichols, contributed some of their best work.

Film, particularly in the first half of the decade, somehow not only avoided this malaise but managed to flourish.   There were so many great movies made about America, from Coppola’s “The Godfather” and “The Godfather Part 2”, and Scorsese’s “Mean Streets” and “Taxi Driver,” to Altman’s “McCabe and Mrs. Miller” and “Nashville”.   These movies were all intensely personal and defied typical Hollywood storytelling convention.  To me, the greatest movie made in and about America in the 1970s is Roman Polanski’s 1974 masterpiece, “Chinatown.”
In “Chinatown,” Nicholson gives perhaps his greatest performance because he is essentially playing Bogart.   Countless detective films and actors have tried to approximate Bogart and failed.  “Chinatown” succeeds because Polanski and the screenwriter, Robert Towne, recognized the similarities between Bogart and Nicholson and tailor made the role of private eye Jake Gittes for Nicholson.  As such, you aren’t consciously reminded that you are watching Jack Nicholson in a Humphrey Bogart movie, but that’s essentially what’s going on.

Towne’s screenplay is perfection.   He not only understands Nicholson and Bogart, he understands the genre, and he understands the time he is living in.  The only way a story taking place in the past can be great is if it says something about the present.  Towne understands the complicated twist and plot turns and characters that the genre requires; he also makes them relevant to the everyday experience of the viewer.

Gittes, like Spade and Marlowe, is tough and cynical, and even when he is in over his head, he remains a step ahead of the rest, clearly tougher and smarter than everyone else.  Towne gives Gittes a tragic past that not only informs him of the corruption that surrounds him, but also makes him a victim of it.  There is vulnerability in Gittes that is at the core of the movie, and no matter how familiar he becomes with the corruption, he never gets used to it, and ultimately falls to it.   The movie makes a lot of unspecified allusions to his past working the beat in Chinatown – we get enough to know it was corrupt, it was where Gittes learned the ways of the world, and it is also where he had his heart broken by getting too caught up in everything - and we see it all happening to him again, as he gets involved with the beautiful and mysterious Mrs. Mulwray and her husband and father’s world of political scandal and cover up.   We sense what Gittes senses – that this is not going to end well; there is inevitability, almost a resignation, and it’s no surprise when evil and corruption triumphs in the end.

Like most great detective films, the plot depends on a strong and seductive and dangerous female that is formidable enough to potentially bring the protagonist down.  In “Chinatown,” we are given perhaps the most complex and beautiful female lead in any detective film ever - Faye Dunaway’s portrayal of the beautiful and mysterious and ultimately tragic Evelyn Mulwray, who may or may not have hired Gittes to investigate her husband's extramarital affairs.  Mulwray is one of the greatest characters ever created for film, and Dunaway’s performance is the crowning achievement in an illustrious career.  In the movie, nothing is what it appears to be; especially Evelyn Mulwray.

Dunaway’sperformance and Towne’s script conjure up comparisons to other great femme fatales in screen history, particularly Mary Astor in “The Maltese Falcon".  With her hair tied up to accentuate her exquisite cheekbones, there is even a physical likeness to the short-haired Astor.  Just like Bogart, you can understand why Nicholson starts falling for her, why he’d be willing to risk everything for her. What Townes adds in “Chinatown” is a secret that Dunaway is carrying, and without exposing what it is, suffice to say it is a doozy, as the entire film centers on it, and it brings a clarity and a complexity to the Evelyn Mulwray character. Only a gifted actress like Dunaway could explore her depths. Dunaway is simply amazing, and as great as Nicholson is in the film, it wouldn’t--it couldn’t--work without Dunaway’s tour de force.

John Huston as the evil and deranged Noah Cross

The film also features, as the personification of evil, none other than John Huston as the deranged and wealthy and powerful Noah Cross.  The casting of Huston, who, thirty three years earlier wrote and directed “The Maltese Falcon,” is no coincidence and one of many examples of how Polanski invites comparisons between the two films.  Huston also gives a brilliant performance.  Knowing he was one of the creators of the archetypes the film is paying homage to gives him instant credibility.  He is the Godfather of the genre, and he brings that level of authority to the role.  That he so effectively portrays evil and madness makes Noah Cross intimidating and frightening.  His triumph at the film’s end is truly horrifying.

Roman Polanski, about to show Jack Nicholson what happens to nosy kitty cats

There are references to other famous detective and gangster movies. Polanski himself shows up as one of Huston’s henchmen.  He has a particularly memorable scene where he shows Nicholson what happens to people who get a little too “nosy.”   The resulting scar conjures up memories of Paul Muni in the 1931 Howard Hawks version of “Scarface”, which can be seen as both a tribute and a clue to the central plot device that is revealed later in Chinatown (check out the implied relationship between Muni’s character and his sister.)

By Jav Rivera

Have you ever felt like no one really listens, like your words fall on deaf ears?  And if by chance they actually hear you, that they don't take you seriously?  Welcome to Porter's predicament.  Based on "The Hunter" series by author Richard Stark, Payback stars Mel Gibson, Maria Bello, and Gregg Henry.  Like the film's theme, the film too was a bit overlooked.  Gibson, whose production company, Icon Productions, funded the project, underplayed the Porter character, making him unforgettable and believable.  Sure, he's essentially a bad guy, but in his world he's actually better than the others.


The film begins with thief Porter waking up after getting shot down, betrayed by his partner in crime Val Resnick - played perfectly slimy by Gregg "Hubba-Hubba" Henry.  Porter decides to get back on his feet and claim his share of their recent heist: $70,000.  No more, no less.  Got that?  Pay attention, because he just wants his 70 Gs.  But as it turns out, Resnick now works for "The Outfit", a high end crime organization.  Getting his money back may be trickier than expected.

Mel Gibson and Gregg Henry

And though Porter gets in over his head, it's not really an underdog story.  The director, Brian Helgeland, on the other hand, could better fit that label.  After writing such screenplays as Assassins, L.A. Confidential, and Conspiracy Theory, Helgeland had been given the opportunity of his life - to direct his first feature length film.  Because of his history with Richard Donner (Director of Superman, The Lethal Weapon Series, and The Goonies) as well as working with Mel Gibson, Helgeland was taken under their wings and given his chance to move into the director's seat.  Gibson, who had heard about Helgeland's script for Payback while on set of Conspiracy Theory, told Helgeland that if he liked the screenplay, he'd produce it.  Months later, just as Helgeland felt the project would never come to fruition, Gibson called and asked if he could be ready in twelve weeks to begin shooting.

Richard Donner, who remains uncredited in the film, was on set as a consultant to Helgeland.  In the behind-the-scenes interviews, Helgeland is clearly humbled by his experience with the legendary director.  Donner, too, speaks of Helgeland in high regard.  The two seemed to have bonded like a father-son relationship.

With such strong guidance, it's sad then that there was conflict towards the end of production.  Helgeland's original ending was deemed too dark by the studio and he was asked to revise it.  He remained insistent on his version, despite advice from Donner and Gibson, and was eventually fired. Gibson and the remaining team then shot additional footage that now had several changes including a new ending, Gibson's voice over, and actor Kris Kristofferson as Bronson, the head of "The Outfit".

Year's later Helgeland was given the opportunity to put together a director's cut, which goes by the title Payback: Straight Up.  In most cases, I lean towards a director's original vision, but Payback's theatrical release is by far my preferred incarnation.  If you can hunt it down, there is a Blu-ray disc available that includes both theatrical and director's cut versions along with several behind-the-scenes featurettes (note: this Blu-ray will more than likely only be found online - check Amazon).  It's ironic that Helgeland didn't heed the advice of two amazing directors (Donner and Gibson).  After all, the film is basically about people who don't listen.  Still, I commend Helgeland to sticking to his guns. 

Gregg Henry, William Devane, and Kris Kristofferson

Gibson wasn't the only one delivering a pitch perfect performance.  Along with Gregg Henry as Resnick, William Devane and Kris Kristofferson as Carter and Bronson, respectively, add richness to what could have easily been one-sided characters.  They're bad guys with what they perceive as good intentions.  Kristofferson is especially memorable as a very frightening head honcho.  Unfortunately for him and his "Outfit", however, they don't take Porter seriously.  It's a mistake they may soon regret.

Throughout the film, Porter has to climb his way through so many obstacles that by the time he reaches Bronson's number two man Fairfax (played charmingly by James Coburn), it's almost tragic. But Coburn adds a much needed comedic relief that helps take the audience through Porter's struggle to the top.  And with a character as devious as Porter, it's fortunate that Helgeland and co-writer Terry Hayes give their characters enough...well...character to make the line between good and bad a bit more gray, and thus more interesting.

L-R: Bill Duke, Gibson, and Jack Conley

Helgeland and Hayes slow Porter down even more by throwing a couple of crooked cops his way in the form of Detectives Hicks (Bill Duke) and Leary (Jack Conley).  And of course there's the always great David Paymer as Stegman, a lowlife trying to work alongside Hicks and Leary while secretly maintaining his drug connection with Resnick.  And if Porter didn't have enough to contend with, there's also a Chinese Triad with Pearl (played by Lucy Liu) as one of its members trying to kill Porter over a crime he committed a few months back.

Lucy Liu and Gibson

Then there's Porter's drug addict wife Lynn (Deborah Kara Unger) and his previous lover Rosie (Maria Bello).  Rosie (a high end call girl) and Porter (her former driver) have a long, troubled history.  The relationship is forced back together when Porter is left on his own and seeks the help of the only person he trusts.  Rosie, of course, blames him for their original separation, and Porter likewise.  That tension brings back the film's theme of negligence.

Gibson and Maria Bello

Though the film's strength comes from Helgeland's script, he also enlisted the help of some excellent collaborators. Composer Chris Boardman's brass-heavy music adds a cityscape overtone with an almost grandeur feel.  And thanks to Director of Photography Ericson Core, the film's grit is achieved by creating a cold, blue hue to the streets - which is basically Porter's territory.  In contrast, the interiors are rich and warm - like a foreign country where Porter doesn't belong.  Sadly, these two incredible features were taken out for the Director's Cut - a decision that seems odd given that they were two of its best qualities.  

Porter getting hit by a car

For more information visit the film's IMDb page: www.imdb.com/title/tt0120784

TRIVIA: In Richard Stark's novel "The Hunter", the main character's name is Parker (not Porter).  Additionally, Stark has claimed that he wished he had named him differently, in part because he has always struggled writing sentences describing Parker parking his car.