Wim Wenders didn’t have a script when he started filming Kings of the Road. Honestly, that’s probably why it feels so much like real life. Most movies try to force a "hero's journey" down your throat, but this 1976 German masterpiece—originally titled Im Lauf der Zeit (In the Course of Time)—just lets you exist.
You’ve got two guys in a massive repair truck. One is Bruno, a shaggy projector repairman who lives out of his van. The other is Robert, a depressed linguist who just drove his Volkswagen Beetle into the Elbe River.
The movie is basically a three-hour vibe. It’s the final part of Wenders’ "Road Trilogy," following Alice in the Cities and The Wrong Move, and it’s arguably the most famous. But why does a black-and-white film about two lonely dudes and broken movie projectors still land so hard in 2026?
The Plot That Isn't Really a Plot
It’s simple. Bruno (played by Rüdiger Vogler) rescues Robert (Hanns Zischler) after his botched suicide attempt. Robert has nothing but the wet clothes on his back. Bruno has a truck full of tools and a portable record player. They start driving along the border of West and East Germany, stopping at run-down cinemas in tiny towns.
That’s it. That is the whole movie.
But the magic is in the silence. Wenders and his legendary cinematographer, Robby Müller, captured a Germany that feels like a ghost town. They shot on 35mm black-and-white film, using an ARRI 35 BL. The images are crisp, lonely, and strangely beautiful. You’re watching a country trying to find its soul after the war, all while being flooded by American culture.
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"The Yankees have colonized our subconscious."
That’s one of the few famous lines in the film. It hits differently now. Bruno and Robert are obsessed with American rock and roll, but they’re stuck in the middle of a fractured Europe. They are "Kings of the Road," sure, but they’re also outsiders in their own land.
Why the 175-Minute Runtime is Actually a Flex
I know what you're thinking. Three hours? For a movie where "nothing happens"?
Here’s the thing: things do happen. They just happen at a human pace. You watch them shave. You watch them eat. There’s even a famous (or infamous) scene where Bruno relieves himself in a field. It’s not for shock value; it’s just Wenders saying, "This is a body. This is a person. We aren't skipping the boring parts."
The film was almost entirely improvised. Wenders had a route scouted out—a path along the "Inner German Border"—but the dialogue was largely found on the day. This gives the relationship between Bruno and Robert a weird, authentic friction. They don't always like each other. They bicker. They go long stretches without saying a word.
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Cinema as a Dying Language
One of the most touching aspects of kings of the road film is its obsession with the physical act of watching movies. Bruno isn't just a mechanic; he’s a doctor for dying machines. He fixes projectors in theaters that are clearly on their last legs.
In one scene, they put on a shadow puppet show behind a screen for a group of kids because the projector is broken. It’s a love letter to the experience of cinema—the flickering lights, the whirring of the reels—at a time when Wenders felt that magic was slipping away.
Technical Rawness and the Müller Touch
You can't talk about this film without mentioning Robby Müller. He didn't use massive lighting rigs. He used "available light." If a scene took place in a dark room with one window, that’s how he shot it. This gives the film a documentary feel.
The production cost about DM 730,800, which wasn't much even for 1975. They used Kodak Plus-X and Four-X stock, then copied it to Orwo positive. The result is a high-contrast, gritty look that perfectly matches the "men's story" Wenders was trying to tell.
Common Misconceptions About Kings of the Road
People often think this is a depressing slog. It really isn't. There’s a lot of humor in it, mostly of the dry, "looking at the absurdity of life" variety. It’s a movie about friendship that doesn't rely on sentimentality.
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Another misconception? That it’s a political manifesto about the Berlin Wall. While the border is always there—a literal fence cutting through the woods—the film is much more interested in the internal borders. The walls between men. The walls between a man and his past.
How to Experience it Today
If you want to dive in, don't try to "watch" it like a Marvel movie. You have to let it wash over you.
- Find the Criterion Restoration: The 4K restoration is stunning. The blacks are deep, and the textures of the old German theaters practically pop off the screen.
- Listen to the Soundtrack: The music by Axel Linstädt and the band Improved Sound Limited is essential. It’s got this melancholic, slide-guitar Americana vibe that bridges the gap between West Germany and the US.
- Watch for the Small Details: Keep an eye out for the specific projectors Bruno works on. These are real machines—Ernemann, Bauer—the backbone of 20th-century culture.
Kings of the road film isn't just a movie; it's a time capsule. It captures a moment when the world was changing, and two men decided to just drive through the middle of it.
Whether you’re a die-hard cinephile or just someone who feels a bit "colonized" by modern life, it’s worth the three-hour trip. Just make sure you have some good coffee and a quiet room. It’s a journey that demands your full attention, but it pays off in a way very few modern films can manage.
Your Next Steps for Exploring New German Cinema
To truly appreciate the context of Wenders' work, start by watching the other two entries in the Road Trilogy: Alice in the Cities and The Wrong Move. Once you've finished those, track down a copy of the 2015 documentary Wim Wenders: Desperado, which provides behind-the-scenes footage of the improvised filming process and interviews with Rüdiger Vogler about the physical toll of the 1975 shoot.