On 24th January 1975, American jazz musician Keith Jarrett performed to a sell-out crowd at Köln’s Opera House whilst playing a broken piano. The recording has since become the best-selling solo jazz album of all time, and the gig almost didn’t go ahead. Written and directed by Ido Fluk, period drama Köln 75 tells the amazing true story of how the evening came to be – the ‘scaffolding’ supporting the masterpiece as it is put in the film’s introduction.
When 18-year-old aspiring promoter Vera Brandes (Mala Emde) throws herself into the bohemian live music scene, she causes a stir with her infectious enthusiasm and entrepreneurialism. Meanwhile, Jarrett (John Magaro) was touring on the road in Germany with his producer Manfred Eicher (Alexander Scheer) as Rolling Stone journalist Mick Watts (Michael Chernus) trailed them in the pursuit of his latest scoop. Their path inevitably crosses with Vera’s, and the wheels behind the concert are set in motion.
There are three sections to the film, and their tonal differences are well handled by Fluk who also achieves a satisfying 70s aesthetic through a textured sheen of browns and mustardy yellows. The first chapter is essentially the coming-of-age tale of our protagonist. Skipping class, clashing with her conservative parents, and navigating teen romance(s), Vera lights up the screen. Her wheeler-dealer energy is admittedly missed during the middle third which shifts focus to Jarrett’s more sombre route to the famous stage, but the elements come together nicely for an exhilaratingly chaotic final act.
Breaking the fourth wall with a tongue-in-cheek flair that recalls 80s pieces like Ferris Bueller’s Day Off or even TV series Saved by the Bell, we get a real sense of Brandes’ fun and riotous nature through Mala Emde’s leading turn. She’s not the only one that speaks directly to the audience – Chernus does a great job in tying the separate parts of the story together with his Big Short-esque exposition, amusingly insisting that he himself is pivotal to the plot. More downbeat than the bigger performances around him, Magaro is compelling in the role of Jarrett – a heady combination of uber talent, self-doubt, melancholy, and dark humour, he paints a vivid portrait of a tortured artist.
Much like experiencing Jarrett’s improvisational style, it’s hard to know what will come from one scene to the next in Fluk’s wild rendition of this historical event, but it maintains a momentum through the bebop rhythm of its score. With Mala Emde’s fantastic performance at its heart, there’s an intoxicating punk rock spirit to Köln 75’s jazz-infused narrative.
Cinema Perspective 