Summer 2005. We travelled from Berlin to our shooting location: A prison building dating from the middle ages, situated at the centre of the isolated little town of Luckau in a market place lined with renaissance houses. It was pouring with rain that day, pelting down. It was three weeks before shooting was due to begin and we wanted to make a film about music but we didnít have any music. For a whole year, we had been trying to find a composer who could take on Schumann, Mozart and Beethoven, but without success. The project was in danger of collapse because it was clear that without the final concert, from which the film gets its name FOUR MINUTES and which was supposed to tie all the threads of the plot together, our film couldnít succeed.
We sped through the rain. A truck honked its horn at us. Our desperation led us to pay little attention to speed limits of any kind. In front of me in the car lay dozens of demo tapes. We had begged almost every film composer in Germany to send us an idea, a first draft. Many of these were interesting, brilliant and impressive compositions, but something was missing, that wild and off the rails quality, the majestic and brutal, the touching and inextinguishable music that would bring our main character Jenny to the one, monstrous climax, which a showdown always is.
I grabbed one of the last cassettes. Two A4 pages were enclosed with it. A commentary from the composer, who Iíd never heard of before. She explained every single note that I was about to hear. I hate explanations. I hate rain. And I really hate it when hopes are replaced by fears. So the conditions were perfect. I put the cassette in and we listened for four minutes. Then we stopped the car and I jumped out, took shelter under a tree and called the composer. Annette Focks. I yelled down the phone to her how great she was, that I wanted to take her piece exactly as it was, that she was going to save our film and our asses too.
And thatís exactly what she did, she found a balance between Schubertís impromptus and her own sometimes raw, sometimes tender tones, and gave this film its heartbeat.
FOUR MINUTESí soundtrack is a mosaic, compiled from centuries of tradition. Klezmer, Bach, bar music, handcuff rock, North-African sounds, Beethovenís Waldstein Sonata, heavy metal. But the music that most clearly expresses what FOUR MINUTES is about, the deep wish for individuality and freedom of expression, is the music that hit us on that rainy day near Luckau.
Soundtrack direkt bestellen bei Sony BMG Music Entertainment