WORLD ON A WIRE

A few general reflections

We are dealing with three worlds. World I, the overarching world, is the only real world. In order to better cope with its planning problems, it has created a simulation of itself—World II. This simulation must replicate conditions in World I as closely as possible in order to make reliable predictions. In fact, it must be identical with World I except for one crucial difference: its inhabitants cannot be aware of their true nature. However, since all other conditions are necessarily analogous, World I inevitably lays the foundation for World II to emancipate itself. World I programmed World II with intelligence, civilizational knowledge, and cultural and technological skills. These are, in turn, used by the inhabitants of World II to create a simulation that meets their own needs. Since they now have a system that is dependent on them, they learn a few things about dependencies and also realize that they themselves exist in someone else’s name. The “simulated units” of World II become “identity units” for which World I no longer has any use.

Seen such, it seems only a question of the proper consciousness and view of one’s situation (“The person who has recognized his own situation—how can he be held back?”). However, consciousness is not an abstract matter that Hall need only impart, as information, to the simulated units (listen, people, I have discovered something here!) in order to set them free. It must be shown how a person becomes conscious of his situation on the basis of concrete things. In other words, people must suffer from social conditions and ultimately decide to organize the world in a way that is suitable for them and not for some other authorities. This also means that they must now use, for their own needs, the simulator developed in their world, as opposed to allowing it to calculate the campaign for a new laundry detergent brand.

In the film World I looks like our world, and perhaps has a few features of its own that enable us to recognize that its dimensions are larger than those of our world. As far as World II goes, the question is whether it should not be depicted in two ways, from a subjective and objective point of view. In other words, as long as its inhabitants are “among themselves,” it looks real since it is real in their consciousness. But if we find ourselves on the level of World I and observe World II via the screen, we might find, here and there, a few elements that are strangely incomplete: a street that continues to the horizon when viewed from level II, but that, after a cut to level I, suddenly ends exactly where the car has turned; or a room that is not as complete as World II’s inhabitants might believe, perhaps lacking a wall; or something from World I that the control room quickly punches into a decoration in World II, with the process seen by the viewer. At any rate, something must be done along these lines, not only to physically illustrate the difference between World I and II, but also to show that people in World II are repeatedly fooled into believing in something that can be easily taken away if they have not yet appropriated it themselves.

The relationship between World III and World II is the same as that between World II and World I. Perhaps things seem technically less perfect and more improvised, especially since we only see World III from the perspective of World II and it has not yet developed a life of its own—it can be switched on and off as desired. We can perhaps imagine it like this: up to now World II has only been able to do very simple things with World III—that is, simple reaction tests involving stimulants, the effects of physical exertion, etc., but not complex intellectual tasks.

Ideology: Is it possible that World I has not only created World II as the subject of observation, but also puts it to work for its own purposes? In others words, once World I has become highly developed on the basis of its own achievements, it becomes parasitic since it has everything done for it by World II. This is why it is so interested in preserving World II. If World II were to stop performing its services and become independent, World I would teeter and collapse since it has long forgotten how to reproduce itself (or, for that matter, how to generate a new simulation). It is thus a parable of a master and his servant: as the master’s needs become more refined and he increasingly relies on his servant to ensure they are met, the servant becomes more and more refined and the master increasingly stupid. Although the master cannot live without the servant, the servant can live without him. Seen historically, this is the equivalent of feudalism, which gave rise to the middle classes but was then abolished by them. The middle classes will in turn produce their own antithesis. The theoretical foundations of these thoughts are contained in the novel, but the practical consequences are completely ignored. For example, the normal areas of productive work are conspicuously absent. Since it would, of course, be absurd to think that, of 100 newly produced cars, half could suddenly disappear, we can perhaps imagine it as follows: World I, which is technologically more advanced, has fully automatic factories that produce everything it needs. However, all the corrections to the production process and all innovations, even the effective control of production, conforms to what is manufactured in World II by people who are still directly connected to their work in a productive and intelligent fashion. If we imagine things in this way, the process can, incidentally, be shown in quite concrete terms: when a power plant fails in World I, the error is quickly programmed into a power plant in World II. Its inhabitants find a solution that is then adopted by World I.

World I must definitely appear as a real world and be shown in scenes in the film. After viewers are given a long look at World II, they must suddenly be shown a world that looks identical, but whose inhabitants, strangely enough, are amused by what happens on the screen, worry, intervene in some way, etc., without the audience knowing exactly what this means. At any rate, it is important that viewers notice that one world is up to something with the other (e.g., taking delight in the heroic Hall). But at a certain point they notice that this no longer works and the system goes haywire.

Hall, Lynch, Fuller (who must appear at the start and then die), and Jinx should appear both in World I and as analogous entities in World II, shouldn’t they?

Rainer Werner Fassbinder
(undated; previously unpublished; from the RWFF archives; © RWFF)

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