Skallamann I had ten minutes on my hands, and thought, Yes, let's do
Skallamann, about damn time. I'm not terribly surprised it's good, but I had no idea that music from a German musical short could actually get stuck in an English-speaking American mind. I watched Skallamann, and then did a whole bunch of other stuff like go to a soccer match, play video games, sleep, and yet "skallamann, skallamannn" just sticks in my head.
I dig the weirdness, as you begin in this sterile, depressing apartment home that doesn't really exist in the world, all for the son Frank (I'll assume he/him right now) to come home and drop the bomb of all bombs on his parents: He made out with a bald guy (skallamann). From there, we get a funny, cute song and dance with the ensemble growing larger and larger as the story of what really went down evolves and takes shape. Not like there are any shocking revelations beyond
the bald guy is actually pretty hot.
After watching a few Jacques Demy shorts, you have to think Maria Bock was at least somewhat influenced, given the emphasis on bright colors adding life to the bleak winter landscape.