“Information is like a bank. Some of us are rich. Some of us are poor, with information. All of us can be rich. Our job, your job, is to rob the bank. To kill the guard. To go out there to destroy everybody who keeps, and hides, the whole information. Simple. Special. Information. Power.”

– The High Priest

R… ne répond plus is Jean-Pierre and Luc Dardenne's exploring the airwaves. Some is clearly political. Radio Schwarzi Chatz (“Radio Black Cat”) and the feminist witches from Wellenhexe (”[radio] wave witch”) have important messages, unheard of in the mainstream media. Others broadcast in languages on the verge of extinction, so may that tongue survive in a world that – already forty years ago – was rapidly homogenising.

“This is called the comeback of reality.”

And then there are those, they're unnamed, who travel the land and across the borders with walkie-talkies – those too are radios, two-way – using their meandering frequencies to hold on to reality. It's all very elusive, but it's there. Maybe #radio is not dead. We just need to learn how to tune into that Enochian frequency again. It's real after all.

There's something really peculiarly narrow-minded about the Dutch called “verzuiling”, “pillarisation”; society is split into vertical columns and depending on your background you join certain circles. You play soccer, join a trade union, or listen to the radio in a Catholic, Protestant, or social-democratic context. Deeply socialist, (for you American-styled liberals rather extremely) leftist, and seasoned with a generous dash of subversive underground ánd highbrow culture, Dutch radio and TV broadcaster VPRO belongs to the latter.

 

When VPRO radiomaker Bram van Splunteren came across Beastie Boys' rock/rap crossover 12” She's On It (from the 1985 #HipHop movie Krush Groove), he knew he was onto something and he would play the Beasties and other rappers on his De Wilde Wereld alongside Oingo Boingo and The Fall.

“Some people don't know rock 'n' roll came out the same way rap came out. People would say: No, it will never last.”

– Schoolly D

Despite the VPRO boasting about their leftie open-mindedness, Van Splunteren's embrace of such lowbrow, poor people culture (not the right kind of frugal-by-choice types but the low-cultured tracksuit wearing ones) didn't sit well with the broadcaster. Minorities boasting about their accomplishments, their cars, girls, gold? That's got no place in this social-democratic-Lutheran column!

 

Yet time moved on and Van Splunteren was given a budget to make a TV program about that weird talking-over-drum-machines music. With a small crew that included Belgian comedian/musician Marcel Vanthilt – who would sporadicly rap with his oddball New Beat group Arbeid Adelt! – Van Splunteren explored the music from the then-still predominantly Black neighbourhoods in the Big Town: the Bronx, Harlem, Queens, while Vanthilt interviews everyone available; from a boasting LL Cool J and his grannie to a very green Biz Markie and old old old skoolers The Last Poets.

 

Over time, this obscure 1986 Dutch TV documentary Big Fun in the Big Town has become an essential snapshot of hip hop culture. It captures an optimism and fire elemental to survive Reagan's America and highlights the urge to continue the Black struggle that the Panthers and others set in motion.

 

Happy birthday, hip hop. To many more powerful years to come.

A road movie becomes interesting when the traveller is a stranger. When he or she takes that first step, head still firmly planted at home, soul on its way out.

“Salt, pepper, sugar, ketchup and napkins, New York.”

Jørgen Leth is a Danish documentary maker who in the early 80s sent sixty-six postcards from America. These postcards form a #travelogue of bewilderment. The #landscape, #food, language, anything an American may take for granted framed in a moving still. The American, ever ready for stardom, poses and orates. The scenes become show, regardless if it's a New York cabbie or a man famously (falsely) credited for predicting fame, slowly eating a Whopper.

 

The resulting 66 scener fra Amerika is as much a time capsule as it is a portrait of forever.

Veronika Voss, once one of Ufa's greats and rumoured lover of Goebbels, has a chance meeting with #sports journalist Robert Krohn. Despite not recognising her at first glance, the faded star and her world turn out to be irresistible to him.

“What do you want from Voss? She's no good at soccer.”

– Grete

Die Sehnsucht der Veronika Voss [litt. The yearning of Veronika Voss] is #Fassbinder's tribute to both #BillyWilder's Sunset Blvd. (1950) and real-world actress Sybille Schmitz whose career, like Voss', suffered greatly due to her #morphine dependence after the Entnazifizierung.

The groove is driving and the characters jammin' in J. Terrance Mitchell's Get Rollin' (1980). We follow entrepreneur Vinzerrelli (Vinnie Vinzerrelli) who aims to become “the Muhammad Ali of #RollerBoogie” and to enter the Guinness Book of World Records as the first roller skater to make a million dollars. In his tow, smooth-as-silk Pat the Cat (Pat Richardson), who calls it a day to become a star roller derby player in “London, England”. Pat's wife and suddenly-ex-boss are less charmed by the idea. Those skates are expensive, and steam-cleaning those customised tees cost a dime, too. But Pat, he's determined. He's the Cowboy on Skates, rollin' his and everyone's blues away.

“It's spontaneous combustion!”

– Vinzerrelli

And in her own quiet way, there's soft-spoken physical therapist Inez from Alabama, who can be seen swerving around like a Disco Queen if not teaching a mangled man in Central Park how to rollerskate with flair and self-esteem.

 

A movie awash with so much groove and good vibes, so much love for Black life on #Brooklyn's Empire Roller Disco rink, it can not do other than put a huge grin on your face.