Veni vidi vici, with these words, according to tradition, Gaius Julius Caesar commented on the victory in the Battle of Zela. I came, I saw, I conquered, in just four hours. One of numerous military successes in the career of the general, who was shortly afterwards appointed dictator for life in the Roman Empire. Whether Julius Caesar also sought to transform the Roman Republic into a monarchy towards the end of his life is controversial – but the power that he combined in his person before his assassination was previously unknown in ancient Rome and led the transformation that took place 17 years later of the Republic to the Empire. Drawing parallels between ancient Rome and the present day of late capitalism always seems surprisingly obvious in contemporary cinema these days.
There is, of course, Francis Ford Coppola's magnum opus “Megalopolis”, in which Rome and America, utopia and dystopia, historical phantasmagoria and science fiction spectacle merge into a truly unique melange. But there is also “Gladiator II”, which suddenly seemed like a good idea today, 24 years after its predecessor, and which fits seamlessly into the series of (often somewhat underestimated) historical films in which Ridley Scott talks about the political and social present speaks. And then this crazy, to date unique idea of completely dismantling one of the most legendary catastrophes in cinema history with Tinto Brass' “Caligula” as an archival fantasy about a lost masterpiece and reassembling it from once unused film material as “Caligula: The Ultimate Cut”.
Big game hunting for unsuspecting passers-by
Compared to these films, which delved deeply into these actual or assumed parallels between late capitalism and late Roman decadence, the reference remains in the second joint directorial effort by Daniel Hoesl and Julia Niemann, “Veni Vidi Vici“, almost emphatically casual. Because nothing at all seems to be anchored in history here; on the contrary, the entire film appears entirely as a surface: from the camera shots with a central perspective, to the dialogues laced with catchphrases and business phrases, to the minimalist, light-flooded, almost white cube-like rooms in which the story of the Maynard family unfolds. Family father Amon (Laurence Rupp) is an investor in high finance – “what Mozart was to music, Amon Maynard is to money,” we once learn, and the fact that no rules apply to the Maynards makes “Veni Vidi Vici” of the first Seconds unmistakably clear.
Amon Maynard is a hunter, but unlike other fans of this hobby, he doesn't make fun of killing animals, but instead shoots random passers-by with a sniper rifle. The film repeatedly mentions the serial murdering sniper who has been wanted for a long time, and somehow his identity also seems to be an open secret. However, no one can or wants to do anything to stop the series of murders. Only the journalist Volker Carlotta (Dominik Warta) tries to make the revelation public, but it only falls on deaf ears and embarrassed looks everywhere – except for Maynard himself, who seems to be longing for someone to stand in his way. met him at eye level instead of in a servile gesture of submission…
At the fair you only shoot at targets. In real life, however, Amon Maynard prefers to hunt people.
However, “Veni Vidi Vici” is told primarily from the perspective of Maynard’s daughter Paula (Olivia Goschler), who comments on the events from the off. She decrees right at the beginning of the film that she is far too creative for fair play, and as the film progresses it becomes increasingly clear that no moral consciousness can be expected from the next generation either. Many people will die without any consequences for those responsible. Will anything ever change? And if not, why isn't anyone doing anything about it?
The world of the super-rich as a sadistic playground has recently almost created its own subgenre, somewhere between genre and art house cinema. From Ruben Östlund's exuberant satire “Triangle of Sadness” to Zoe Kravitz's gender war horror “Blink Twice” to the obscenely rich foodies who became the targets of a kind of haute-cuisine guerrilla in the man-hunting fantasy of “The Menu,” there was a kind of critique of capitalism Agitprop cinema a small but unmistakable renaissance. However, “Veni Vidi Vici” comes across as much more cumbersome than all of the examples mentioned.
In the world of the super-rich, people can actually do whatever they want, according to “Veni Vidi Vici.”
Hoesl and Niemann have no interest in staging their material as a profound genre piece like “Bacurau” anyway. But apart from a few basic ideas, there is little that reminds us of the baroque grotesqueries of “Triangle Of Sadness”. Instead, “Veni Vidi Vici” comes across as a chillingly conceptual art effort, which is underlined abundantly by the avant-garde sound art soundtrack by Viennese composer Manuel Riegler. All too often, however, all of this remains merely ornamental, and the spark never really spreads. The film treads too much on the spot, and over the pleasantly short 86 minutes it hardly has anything to add to the basic idea that was already established in the first few minutes.
In the end, that's just a bit small – also because this basic idea in itself would be neither particularly original nor super complex. Which wouldn't be a bad thing in itself, since it has always been the prerogative of this type of satirical-generic social criticism to hammer home its messages using striking means. But “Veni Vidi Vici” simply doesn’t have enough bite for that. He plays his game quite unswervingly until the bad end, then unnecessarily formulates his message again very clearly, and hardly makes a mistake within the scope of what he has conceptually set out to do. But to really develop any power, it all remains far too smooth and aesthetically too transparent.
Conclusion: Manhunt in late capitalism – the film by the Austrian directing duo Hoesl/Niemann sits somewhere between “Bacurau”, “Triangle Of Sadness” and “The Menu” in a loose sequence of satirical vivisections of the world of the ultra-rich. Although he comes across with a very demonstrative artistic desire, the calculation never quite works out: it all seems too superficial, too toothless to really be remembered. Too bad.
We saw “Veni Vidi Vici” as part of the 19th Around the World in 14 Films Festival in Berlin.