A Life in Suitcases: A History of Tulse Luper (2005)

A Life in Suitcases is special because it treats the 20th century like a mischievous, brainy treasure hunt—ninety-two suitcases scattered around the world, each one a clue, a joke, a wound, a footnote that somehow adds up to a life. Peter Greenaway turns biography into a cinematic essay: playful and provocative, packed with lists, sidebars, and visual wit that makes you feel like you’re watching history being argued with in real time rather than dutifully recited. The vibe is part adventure, part wartime fever dream, part museum installation that’s come alive—more curious than sentimental, more dazzling than tidy. It won’t be for everyone, especially if you want a straightforward narrative, but if you’re open to a film that challenges how stories are told and why “History” is never as neutral as it pretends, it’s a singular, invigorating experience.

Peter Greenaway is trying to turn 20th-century history into a playful, brainy collage—part mystery, part archive, part joke—using Tulse Luper’s “92 suitcases” as a hook for an essay about how stories get recorded and controlled. The problem is that, as a condensed version of a much longer project, it can feel less like a satisfying film and more like being dropped into someone’s dense personal encyclopedia: fascinating images and ideas, but slippery characters, fragmented momentum, and a lot of deliberate intellectual detours. If you want a clear narrative, emotional payoff, or even a conventional “adventure/war drama,” this will likely test your patience and feel self-consciously arty. If, however, you enjoy experimental cinema, visual maximalism, and films that behave like footnoted arguments rather than stories, there’s enough wit and craft here to make the experience worthwhile.