I wonder why none of the reviews are attending us on that unforgettable, tragic last pictures of the movie: a deadly frozen world, their arms in vain stretched outside through the gaps in the prisoning wall; in silence lost screaming by human beings whose irrealism did not succeed in their hopeful but anarchistic fighting for an authentic natural life; caught back worse than ever before in a senseless but common life: our daily world without real communicative language. The movie is a great piece of art, a forceful protest, biting but humorous as well, against an inhumane way of one-dimensional existing. Yes, in the spirit of those years, the seventies (Marcuse!); but transcending that time in deeply moving images, a huge everlasting metaphor of human existence in a world of scattered hope for Sense and Quality.
