Interview with Bully Herbig about »A Thousand Lines«

Michael Bully Herbig, 54, receives a press conference in the suite of a Berlin hotel.

The light went out in the bathroom, and for a moment there was a suspicion that the editor-in-chief and head of the culture department might have been taken in by an elaborate joke by the director and comedy star.

The conversation then proceeds with appropriate seriousness – albeit with partially reversed roles.

Because Herbig wants to know what really happened.

HERBIG:

Mr. Klusmann, Mr. Kuzmany, how did you actually find “A Thousand Lines”?

Klusmann:

Let's put it this way: If I weren't editor-in-chief of SPIEGEL, I would have laughed even more heartily.

But the whole time I had to think about how the film looks on the outside.

I can't get out of the role.

HERBIG:

Was there a favorite scene?

Klusmann:

When the reporter Juan Romero forgot one of his children on the bus.

I called the real Juan Moreno afterwards and asked if that was really the case.

And he: »Of course it's made up!

Do you think something like this will happen to me?

My wife would kill me."

Kuzmany:

I liked the editorial conferences.

We experience it every day, I was able to compare that well.

The vanities depicted were not entirely alien.

HERBIG:

In these scenes, it was particularly fun to work with clichés.

It's not just like that in journalism.

This type can be found in industry, in art, everywhere.

And with the scene on the bus, it was of course still appealing that we got Kurt Krömer for it.

That serves comedy and satire.

What would you say: what genre does the film belong to?

Kuzmany:

That's actually what we wanted to ask you.

He seems a little undecided.

On the one hand, you retell that story fairly accurately.

On the other hand, you then heavily oversubscribe again.

HERBIG:

I had a lot of conversations before: Where do you start?

Can you make an interesting story out of it?

Or something satirical?

Will it be drama?

There are not many fabrics that allow to serve everything.

Klusmann:

A reporter cheats his editors and his readers by not researching stories but inventing them.

What fascinated you so much about this subject that you wanted to film it?

HERBIG:

When this bomb burst, the first thing I said was: Wow.

Kuzmany:

We felt the same way.

HERBIG:

I can imagine that a great deal of murmuring went through SPIEGEL.

And although I deliberately don't want to make a comparison, at first you inevitably think of what happened back then with »Stern« and what kind of film Helmut Dietl made of it.

I like impostor stories, love crook comedies.

Don't get me wrong, but I enjoy watching them in movies.

And I found this material particularly exciting because it is relevant and comes at a very fragile time, in which some are already very critical of the press.

Then such a scandal also happens at the most serious news magazine in Europe.

That has an enormous drop, David versus Goliath story included.

It was immediately clear to me: This is entertainment, there is satire in it, but not only that.

Klusmann:

What percentage of satire does a Bully Herbig film need so that the audience is not disappointed?

HERBIG:

If the material had been filmed as a drama, that would have been overambitious.

I didn't want to position myself as a moralizer and wag my index finger.

No, I've been observing journalists for years, even when they conduct interviews with me.

I even think I can tell from the aisle if someone is from the feuilleton.

Kuzmany:

How does a feature writer do?

HERBIG:

I can't describe it.

But when I see one coming in, I know what's coming.

And I find that funny too.

The nice thing is being able to hold up a mirror to people.

The mirror!

Nice pun.

You have to write that down.

Kuzmany:

So we're all clichés of ourselves?

HERBIG:

And that pleases me.

Years ago we had a little game in our production company, on Mondays we always imitated each other.

Then you suddenly realize: Oh yes, that's right, I have this quirk.

I love observing people, catching them and thereby entertaining them, maybe even embarrassing them.

And with »A Thousand Lines« I also had material because of its relevance, which I assume people will be very interested in.

Kuzmany:

Is the film also to be understood as a declaration of love for serious journalism?

HERBIG:

Yes, he is.

That's why I pretty much followed Juan Moreno's book, I'm telling the film from his perspective.

At this point I would be interested: Would you say that he is some kind of hero?

Did he save DER SPIEGEL?

Klusmann: In

any case, I am very grateful to him.

HERBIG:

You only became editor-in-chief after the incident.

Klusmann:

I was already in the house, but not yet in office.

Because I was still busy preparing the merger of our digital and print editorial offices.

I was supposed to take over on January 1st and the bombshell went off just before Christmas.

HERBIG:

As a storyteller and filmmaker, I imagine it's awful: you've reached the pinnacle of journalism.

And then there is a huge heap of manure in front of you on the first day of work.

How do you feel there?

Klusmann:

You're in such crisis mode that you don't feel much anymore, you just try to function.

We then quickly set up a commission that independently processed the fraud case and prepared a report.

Then we published it.

It was pretty devastating, but also cleansing.

HERBIG:

Would you say there is a SPIEGEL before Relotius and one after Relotius?

Or more generally: journalism before and after?

Klusmann:

I hope so, at least in relation to our house.

I can't speak well for others.

HERBIG:

Have control mechanisms tightened?

Have new ones been set up?

How do you unmask the foam beater of the future?

Klusmann:

We introduced a few new control mechanisms and simply reapplied the ones that existed.

In the Commission's final report, all of this is completely unvarnished.

Did you actually read the report?

HERBIG:

No.

My basis was the book by Juan Moreno.

As I read, I realized that it's all about the lie and the truth or perceived truths.

That became the basis for this film, also in terms of filmmaking.

It was important to me that the people who read the book were still surprised in the cinema and said: wait a minute, I don't remember it that way.

In addition, and this will perhaps please you, many did not even notice this scandal.

We commissioned market research and about 70 percent of those surveyed had never heard of the case.

That's nice for the film because they don't know how it ends.

Klusmann:

Isn't that also a problem for the film?

The Hitler diaries were absolutely mainstream, but only those who read newspapers and magazines know about Relotius.

Many of the stories took place far away in crisis areas, for example against the background of the Syrian war.

Is such a subject suitable for the masses enough for a Herbig film?

HERBIG:

Good question.

In order to make such a topic palatable to enough people, it has to be entertaining.

The material had to be designed in such a way that someone who is not in the media bubble would understand what it was about.

So: What is a department head, what does an editor-in-chief do anyway?

What motivates the characters?

When shooting, I always said, also to the producers: I can't tell you what kind of genre it will be.

I just do what I enjoy.

In the end, people have to sit in the cinema, like with a nice music video like this, and say: "We enjoyed watching it."

Klusmann:

Is »Schtonk!« a model for »A Thousand Lines«?

HERBIG:

»Schtonk!« is one of my favorite films, but by no means a role model, the film is no longer up to date.

1992 was world class and it wasn't nominated for an Oscar for nothing.

But the way it was played, the way it was staged, it's very, very eighties.

You can't do that anymore today.

My film was made 50 percent on set and 50 percent in the editing room.

There were many more ideas.

I wanted the film to feel a bit like a magazine.

Hence the graphics, the freeze images and a few gimmicks.

I would have liked to do a lot more of it, but then it would have seemed too ambitious.

Kuzmany:

It is said that Claas Relotius tried to contact you.

Is that correct?

HERBIG:

That can be.

However, I ruled that out from the start.

I wanted to focus on Juan Moreno's book, his perspective, his story, because we had the rights to film it.

I was also worried that the material would be watered down when I talked to Relotius, because as a narrator you would find yourself in a conflict.

I didn't want to hear anything but what Juan Moreno told me.

If Claas Relotius writes a book, someone else can film it.

Kuzmany:

Wouldn't the impostor's perspective have been more interesting for the film?

HERBIG:

There are already many films from the point of view of the imposter.

The interesting thing about the character in my film was that you obviously couldn't really grasp this person.

Someone who was rather reserved, who wrapped people around his finger, who seemed very friendly and insecure.

I wanted to keep that for the film, the viewer should also get this impression.

Kuzmany:

The character remains mysterious.

HERBIG:

Exactly.

And that mystery goes away when you disenchant him by revealing his tricks early.

I found it more interesting to discover the character through the eyes of – in our case – Romero.

Klusmann:

So you didn't contact either Relotius or the two main protagonists of SPIEGEL, the editor-in-chief and the department head, because otherwise the film would have become too understanding?

HERBIG:

Exactly, too boring.

I'll tell you an example: there is a film critic who is very direct and very quick and who always destroys my films.

Until Ballon came, my last film, he liked it.

I said to my press agent: I'd like to meet him now.

But he didn't want to.

He doesn't want to meet the filmmakers because he's afraid he'll like them.

He wanted to keep his distance so as not to be prejudiced.

I was actually a bit afraid that being so close to the real protagonists would take away my artistic freedom.

We deliberately changed the names in »A Thousand Lines« because we left the narrative structure of the book several times.

Klusmann:

You acted in many of your films, but not in this one.

Didn't it appeal to you to take on one of the roles?

HERBIG:

Yes, I even cast myself for a role.

Klusmann:

For which?

HERBIG:

For the photographer.

But then I realized that I wasn't enough for that.

That had to be the Funny Bone, preferably with an accent.

First we thought about a Dutchman, then fortunately it occurred to me that an Austrian would be a much better fit.

Michael Ostrowski works perfectly in combination with Elyas M'Barek.

In between, I briefly considered whether I should play the controller.

But a Bavarian inspector on a Berlin bus, well.

Kuzmany:

Why not editor-in-chief?

HERBIG:

I didn't want to get myself into that embarrassment.

Kuzmany:

Have you ever thought that such a film could be grist to the mill of those who think the media is a lying press?

HERBIG:

Sure.

We were well aware of this responsibility and wanted to approach the subject sensitively, even if it is an entertainment film.

I didn't want to bash journalists or destroy anyone.

I'm a reader myself.

On the other hand, no reader likes to be lied to, one would like to trust so badly.

And I thought it was terrible that that trust was suddenly so shaken.

I think it would be nice if people left the cinema and understood that journalism was basically also lied to.

But he was then able to unmask and clarify it.

And that in turn gives hope.

Klusmann:

Us too.

HERBIG:

Mr. Klusmann, Mr. Kuzmany, thank you for this interview.

The most important contributions to the Relotius case can be found here.