Do we really need another book about Fassbinder? Hasn’t everything been said a hundred times about his penchant for melodrama and his love-hate relationship with his mother, about the hyper-productive filmmaker, the exploiter of women and men, the cokehead, etc habitue in the Paris gay sauna? Almost everyone in his circle has written a book about him, there are enough films, plays and novels, lots of mediocre symposia, doctoral theses in large numbers and probably a Rainer Werner Fassbinder Chair in Queer Studies under special consideration immigration-related train station prostitution.
Ian Penman on “Fassbinder”: Bigger than all the rock stars – culture
