After portly German salt miner Schultze (Horst Krause) and his cronies are forced into retirement, the emptiness of their nowhere, smalltown-Germany existence becomes sadly apparent. The only bachelor in his circle, Schultze falls into a dull routine of playing accordion in a polka band, fishing, napping, and tending to his garden gnomes. Then a chance encounter with Cajun zydeco music turns his life around, a little. Soon he is cooking jambalaya for his pals and playing zydeco to the somewhat shocked denizens of his sleepy burg. When his friends arrange for him to be sent to the U.S. for a German folk festival, Schultze seizes the opportunity to visit the Louisiana bayou, and so his one chance at a wild adventure in life begins. Overcoming the language barrier through his hat-doffing, old-world charm, Schultze finds himself strangely at home in this new environment. SCHULTZE is a slow-moving but lovely little tale about facing mortality, and how the power of both music and human kindness can transcend borders and boundaries, no matter what one's age. Director Michael Schorr plays this--his feature film debut--in a wonderfully deadpan, minor key. The film manages to be deeply moving without ever resorting to standard "fish out of water" cliches or manipulative soundtrack cues. Krause is resoundingly authentic in the title role, and the various (actual location) landscapes are rendered with haunting, lyrical realism.