How to be a cinema classic?
It was 1979.
And, as is so often the case, the director of a feature film had no idea how to use the medium of cinema to make a point.
It was a cold, dark night in the city of Vienna.
It was a week after a deadly bombing that had left 20 people dead, including 10 police officers.
It marked a turning point in the country’s turbulent history, as it brought about the first-ever trial of a Muslim gunman.
And in the midst of it all, the city’s first-time director was the one who would become the poster child for Austrian cinema.
It started with the word “cinemas” in a letter to his then-wife, a former model.
He told her he’d be doing a film about her life, but only if she agreed to do an interview.
“I was young and naive,” he wrote.
“But I could see that the world was full of stories and that there was something to be learned.”
“You are very good and have done a great job in the cinema,” he continued.
“You can write a movie.”
A few months later, he was in town to meet with the director and star of the film, whose film, “Das Neuhaus,” was to have been directed by a Muslim.
The filmmaker had just returned from a visit to Saudi Arabia, where he’d been given the title of the director’s new friend, the king.
The king, a devout Muslim, was furious at the film.
“We should be doing this to Jews, to Muslims,” he said, according to the film’s screenplay.
“How can you do this to us?”
The director, now a celebrated director himself, agreed.
He and his wife flew to Saudi and asked for permission to shoot a short documentary.
The film would be the first of a series of documentaries to come out of Vienna, about the city and its people.
The two men were given full access to the city, and they made an impression.
“You don’t have to be afraid of anyone,” the king told the filmmaker.
“The cinema is here for everyone.”
In the years that followed, the filmmaker made movies about politics, art and culture, among other topics.
He also made a documentary about his time in Vienna, which he would later be called on to direct.
“DAS NEUHAUS” was an instant hit.
It won the Austrian Film Prize in 1977, and the following year, the Austrian Academy of Film awarded the film its first ever Academy Award.
The director died in 1990.
In Austria, a country where the term “Cinema Noir” is still used, the word was coined to describe films that explore subjects of deep meaning.
In fact, that is what makes “Dasa Neuhaus” so much more than just a movie.
It is a statement on the limits of cinema, on the importance of cinema as a medium of thought, of art and of love.
In the documentary, the filmmakers explored the impact of the assassination on the city in ways that were not only true, but also humanistic.
Their film, directed by the director himself and starring his wife, describes the fear and grief that engulfed Vienna.
“If I’m not a filmmaker, I’m a human being,” the filmmaker says in one scene.
“It’s not the film that makes me sad, it’s the emotions that make me sad.”
And it is through these emotions that “Dasi Neuhaarus” becomes the ultimate work of cinema.
It also gives us a glimpse of what cinema can be in this country of 20 million people.
As it turns out, this film is not just a statement.
It’s a cautionary tale.
The film was released in the U.S. on November 20, 1979, a few months before the assassination of the Austrian prime minister.
It became an instant sensation and has since become a favorite film among critics and viewers alike.
The “Dasha Neu Haus” is a movie that captures the heart of the city it’s set in.
The documentary is a caution, too, about our inability to see the truth and to see it as a choice between good and evil.
In a country that still refuses to admit its past mistakes, “Dias Nehuhaus,” as it’s known in the English-speaking world, is a reminder that history can be rediscovered, that people can come together and overcome obstacles.
The filmmakers’ film was originally intended to be the basis for a short film about the life of a young Austrian woman named Ferenc who was born into a Jewish family.
She was the daughter of an Austrian politician and a Jewish architect who was an avid supporter of the Nazi party.
The Nazis’ assassination in World War II left Ferendc without a father and a mother.
Ferenda was raised in Vienna.
When the Nazis captured Vienna, she was sent to live with her grandparents, a group