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Film: Operation Valkyrie
Release date: 28th March 2011
Certificate: 15
Running time: 92 mins
Director: Jo Baier
Starring: Sebastian Koch, Ulrich Tukur, Hardy Krüger Jr., Christopher Buchholz, Nina Kunzendorf
Genre: Drama/History/War
Studio: High Fliers
Format: DVD
Country: Germany
The story of the Stauffenberg plot to kill Hitler has long been a source of fascination and discussion for historians and filmmakers. Following the Hollywood release of Valkyrie, Germany’s own version of the story has now been released in the UK.
This short film follows the story of Claus von Stauffenberg, the German officer who began as an idealistic young soldier, rising quickly through the ranks under Hitler’s rule. However, as his career progresses so too do his doubts about Hitler’s regime and his brutal acts of genocide. A few brave and foolhardy whispers start speaking against the Fuhrer and Stauffenberg finds himself in a dilemma: unwilling to follow orders in Germany, but unable to bring himself to act against his superiors.
As a way out of this quandary, he accepts a posting to North Africa, where he is badly wounded. On his recovery, he makes the decision that something must be done about Hitler and, with a select few compatriots, orchestrates a plan to kill him. It is a plan fraught with danger, but Stauffenberg becomes increasingly obsessed with his aims at the expense of his relationship with his family and, ultimately, his own life…
This made-for-TV German film may be seriously overshadowed in box-office terms by the Hollywood version, but it shows an attention to detail and historical fact that gives it real integrity. Baier deftly racks up the tension towards the climax of the film until the viewer is paying the utmost attention to every ring of the phone and every knock on the door. He also portrays a side of the war against Hitler that is less known – the secret, internal one being waged by his own officers. As a film made in Germany for a German audience, it is perhaps not a surprising choice of story to tell, but for the wider world it represents a reality that we rarely allow for: that even within Germany there were many people fighting against Hitler’s tyranny and cruelty.
Sebastian Koch gives a dynamic and powerful performance as Stauffenberg which carries the film. The story and action focuses around him but he is supported by a strong cast. Nina Kunzendorf gives a restrained and believable portrayal of his long-suffering wife while Ulrich Tukur offers a steadfast and quietly courageous image of General von Tresckow, the leading voice of dissent in the early part of the film.
The film was originally part of a larger TV documentary about Operation Valkyrie, which may explain its condensed nature and short running time. It offers only a cursory view of the events leading up to the assassination attempt. The first part of the film covers an entire decade at breakneck speed with almost every scene taking us forward by a year. While this might have worked well alongside plenty of other background information, as a standalone film, it leaves the viewer feeling a bit short-changed. There are a lot of themes and characters ripe for development, which we see very little of, particularly some of the other officers involved in the plot and Stauffenberg’s wife. We only see her twice, briefly, in the first half of the film, then suddenly there are four children in the picture and we are expected to accept Stauffenberg as a family man. Similarly, as noted above, there are some tantalizingly good performances from many of the actors in this film, but we only get to glimpse their potential rather than seeing it realized.
Having said that, it is a masterful film which remains true to the story it is telling. Some performances are actually notable for their briefness and understated impact, such as Udo Schenk in the role of Hitler. It would have been tempting to give the infamous figure more screen time, but in fact, the one scene which he appears in, without even speaking, comes at a moment of high tension and the performance is absolutely chilling – it sends shivers down the spine.
The catalogue of atrocities is also not laboured over as it might have been. Because the drama centres around Stauffenberg and not Hitler, we hear reports of the mass murders just enough to remind us of the horror of it all, but not so much that it devalues the impact of it or takes away from the main story.
Baier has a very clear vision and keeps focus throughout the film. The mix of high-action wide-view shots and close-ups with more subtle action is just right. The short length of the film means that no moment is wasted and the quieter moments are all the more intense because of that. No scene in this film is there just to pad it out. Although we already know the story, Baier changes the pace with a fluency which carries the viewer along. We lean in for a better look as the scene with the figure on the stretcher is slowed down and replayed, and we feel the sense of despair mixed with blind and desperate hope that it might still work out as everything begins to unravel.
This is a picture of Nazi Germany from the inside at a unique moment of an indelible section of history. It is only right that there should be a German production of this story and this film does it real justice. KS
Film: The White Ribbon
Release date: 15th March 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 144 mins
Director: Michael Haneke
Starring: Christian Friedel, Leonie Benesh, Burkhart Klaussner, Ulrich Tukur, Steffi Kühnert
Genre: Drama/Mystery
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Germany/Austria/France/Italy
Michael Haneke has become renowned over the years for making confrontational, provocative and often controversial films. From the cold-blooded violence of a film like Funny Games to the explicit sexual scenes of The Piano Teacher. In Hidden he proved himself not only adept at tapping into an individual characters psyche but also a national one, on that occassion looking at France’s colonial guilt over Algeria. While very different on the surface, The White Ribbon again taps into a national psyche, but this time the focus is on Germany.
The film itself takes place over a year, from July 1913 to the outbreak of the First World War, in a small village in Germany’s Protestant north. It is a quiet village in which little takes place until they are disturbed by a series of unfortunate events, beginning with a horse tripping over a wire and throwing off its rider, the local doctor.
Soon after this, a field (of cabbages) is scythed down; the local baron’s son disappears, only to be discovered with his feet and hands bound together, and his buttocks lashed with a whip; a barn burns down; a farmer hangs himself; and the handicapped child of the village midwife is kidnapped and discovered tied to a tree, severely beaten, and with a message on his chest that suggests that all these occurrences are divine punishments.
While we are led to believe these are random and unconnected occurrences, the new school teacher (Christian Friedel) soon suspects that it maybe the children of the village that are somehow behind these seemingly unconnected events. The implication made to the audience that these blonde, blue eyed children are the same generation that will bring about the rise of Nazism, and ultimately lead to World War II…
This may all seem rather heavy, and a tad on the pretentious side, but is certainly not as dry or elitist as you may imagine. This is not to say that it is a particularly easy watch either - it is a picture filled with a creeping sense of unease and a claustrophobic atmosphere, which Haneke has always been very good at it. It also follows Haneke’s thematic interest in ‘the root of evil’, which can be seen right throughout his catalogue of works.
It is not so much what is happening that unsettles, but the foreboding and what you don’t see. Also, easy conclusions or resolutions are not present - Haneke rarely ties anything up for the audience - the opening narration tells us the story will ‘clarify’ some of the events, but by the end, you may feel there has been more obfuscation.
This lack of resolution and the general air of mystery are elements most frequently cited by Haneke’s detractors - that and the lecturing tone of some of his films, with Funny Games, which was very accusatory towards the audience, probably being the guiltiest offender. This is the most humane entry in his filmography to date.
The most notable example of this is the growing relationship between the school teacher (Christian Friedel) and Eva (Leonie Benesh), which is both touching and surprisingly innocent - not at all things that Haneke is normally associated with. Both Friedel and Benesh put in very good, understated performances.
The rest of the cast are indeed equally impressive, with Burghart Klaussner giving an imposing performance as the stern pastor who puts white ribbons on his eldest children, Martin (Leonard Proxauf) and Klara (Maria-Victoria Dragus), at the beginning of the events to remind them of their purity.
Praise must also be given to the cinematographer Christian Berger, whose somewhat languid and sober shooting suitably fits the pace and narrative - the choice to frame the film in black-and-white reflects the bleak mood and oppressive atmosphere that pervades, and was also used partly to resemble photographs of the era, especially those of August Sander.
There are, thanks to the village children giving off the appropriate air of sinister and menace, comparisons to be had with The Village Of The Damned, but the rather derisory comments that this is merely that film with art house frills is unfair and unfounded.
When a film is heaped with critical adulation and prizes - it won the 2009 Palme D’Or and was nominated for Best Foreign feature at the 2010 Oscar’s - it is easy to try and pick holes and rail against the critical wind. Here, though, Haneke has created yet another great film, after the misstep with his US remake of Funny Games, and once again cements his place as one of the best directors working within world cinema today.
Film: The White Ribbon
Release date: 15th March 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 144 mins
Director: Michael Haneke
Starring: Christian Friedel, Leonie Benesh, Burkhart Klaussner, Ulrich Tukur, Steffi Kühnert
Genre: Drama/Mystery
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Germany/Austria/France/Italy
Once known as the enfant terrible of the art house, Michael Haneke has garnered mainstream acclaim for the maturation and restraint displayed in later films such as The Piano Teacher in 2002 and Caché in 2005. His latest film appears to continue this trend, winning critical plaudits upon cinematic release, along with the coveted Palme d’Or at 2009’s Cannes Film Festival.
Set in a small German village on the eve of WWI, strange and mysterious events draw a cloud of resentment, repression and simmering violence over its inhabitants. A hidden wire injures a doctor travelling on a horse, loose floorboards cause a tragic fall, a boy is found tied up and thrashed, and a crop is savagely destroyed. The children of a strict disciplinarian pastor appear cool and inhuman.
As a young schoolteacher attempts to uncover the truth behind these sinister happenings, the moral corruption of the patriarchs of the village reveals itself, with dark implications for the next generation...
Haneke shapes his narrative as a series of interlinking vignettes, bringing to mind earlier works such as 71 Fragments Of A Chronology Of Chance (1994) and Code Unknown (2000), exploring the moral consequences of a pre-war context through minute, ambiguously symbolic actions.
Haneke has always been a divisive figure, and it is no surprise, then, to find that underneath the sterile tones and clean lines of his imagery lay emotional, political and thematic complexities which are ripe for critical and sociological dissection. Always an overtly provocative artist, he demands the viewer take a position, form an opinion, use their critical faculties and question what they are being shown. This is not just the effect of his style, but an intrinsic part of his philosophy, mirrored in both the substance of the film’s narratives (or lack of) and the forms they take.
In other words, Haneke’s films challenge conventional audiences, but they are also about challenging the audience. He attempts this balancing act by using transgressive, shocking elements to induce an instinctive yet intuitively moral response to the situations, whilst presenting characters’ actions without the given psychological motivations typical of Hollywood fare. Little explicit explanation is offered for the strange violence enacted by the village’s members, forcing the audience to interrogate the historical context, and wider themes of morality and consequence.
In many ways, The White Ribbon is a departure for Haneke. It is the first period film of his long directorial career and, after working in France for a number of years, it is the first of his since 1997’s Funny Games to be an Austrian/German production. The change of scene does nothing, however, to diminish or soften his unique auteurial vision, and Haneke has produced a morality tale of remarkable clarity, poise and power.
Haneke draws proceedings as a deceptively simple parable, a highly moral, vigilant allegory for the rise of fascism. The largely terrifying children of the village, at once supremely obedient and sadistically threatening, are shown as inevitable products of their upbringings. Whilst the children are ambiguous in their violent fragility, the adults of the village – the pastor, the doctor, the baron – are mostly revealed as brutish, strict, overbearing and hypocritical. They bring their children up in environments of violence and fear, yet expect of them innocence, subservience and perfect behaviour. It is these sad, confused, aggressive children, Haneke suggests, who will grow up during WWI and be instrumental figures in the rise of Nazism as adults.
Typically for the director, few narrative conclusions are revealed, answers are withheld, and the violence almost always occurs off screen. The camera lingers closely on faces, on blank, bleak landscapes, capturing withheld emotions and repressed violence. What makes the film such a success, however, is a newfound warmth in Haneke’s direction and his use of characters. Like all his films, The White Ribbon is difficult - a challenge to his audiences, but whereas in the past he has often refused to come in from the cold, here he constructs his vignettes around a central story of a budding romance between two genuinely likable characters.
Christian Friedel’s innocent, bumbling schoolteacher and Leonie Benesch’s nanny Eva provide a counterbalance to the cold sterility and tragic narratives of the rest of the film’s characters, providing a hopeful core of humanity. Both are played perfectly, but the acting throughout the cast is sublime. Haneke must surely be one of the most gifted filmmakers in world cinema in drawing out superb performances from child actors, and this film displays his gift in abundance. The pastor’s children, in particular, are entrancingly, chillingly well performed.
Composed with the subtlety and grace we have come accustomed to from Michael Haneke, The White Ribbon is a genuine achievement - a striking blend of style and substance with an unequivocal moral message. If you are prepared for the ambiguity and bleakness displayed by this film, you will come away surprised at the warmth at its heart. KI
Film: The White Ribbon
Release date: 15th March 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 144 mins
Director: Michael Haneke
Starring: Christian Friedel, Leonie Benesh, Burkhart Klaussner, Ulrich Tukur, Steffi Kühnert
Genre: Drama/Mystery
Studio: Artificial Eye
Format: DVD
Country: Germany/Austria/France/Italy
Michael Haneke is a master of suspense - a director whose focus has lay solely on his power over his character and his audience. His past successes, of which there are many, have all probed a little deeper than the horror at their surface, and his name has been made not just by his signature direction but by his ambition also. The award-winning, Oscar-nominated White Ribbon showcases another string to his bow.
The film follows the lives of the inhabitants of Eichwald, a rural village in pre-First World War Germany. The villagers are mainly employed as farmers by the baron who is the lord of the manor. The baron runs the village with a tight hand, and the villagers depend on his favour and a good harvest.
The pastor is also a figurehead in a very protestant village; he preaches the strict word of God to the villagers, and most strongly to his young children, who wear white ribbons to symbolise their innocence and purity.
The villagers depend upon their doctor, too; he is a single man whose wife passed away during the birth of his young son. The doctor treats the villagers with care by day, but by night, he takes advantage of his young daughter and housekeeper who is the local midwife.
In the months running up to Ferdinand’s murder and the declaration of the First World War, a series of mysterious and vengeful events begin to take place in the village. The doctor is knocked of his horse by a wire placed between two trees and he is hospitalised; the farmer’s wife falls to her death through the roof of their barn; and then on the day of the town’s harvest festival, the baron’s crop is destroyed. The events cause a stir in the village as the baron urges the villagers to find the culprit of the crimes, and as fear spreads, the baron’s young son is captured and tortured before being found hung upside down in the woods.
Word of mouth and suspicions are spreading around the village as the baron’s wife takes her young family away from the dangers of their home. Events continue to worsen as more acts of sabotage, including the burning of a barn, disrupt the peace. The village’s teacher, who primarily had been more concerned with his growing romance with the young Eva, begins to notice a pattern to the acts that could inclinate the very children he teaches…
The White Ribbon is Haneke’s most accomplished work. He instils a tension that is felt even stronger than his past thrillers Funny Games and Hidden - the anxiety is as affecting as it is subtle. He presents the scrupulous details of the narrative without a soundtrack or any backing music, and this creates an eerie silence around the otherwise disturbing events of the film, and installs an atmosphere of uncertainty that has viewers on tenter hooks even when watching the most trivial of conversations.
Haneke’s direction relies on non-glorious effect as he captures the events through a still and often lingering camera. Shots of closed doors only alert the viewer to the horror of the sounds inside, and we are treated to a consistently off centre camera, which really brings a higher appreciation of the scene in front of it. As the farmer sits at his wife’s death bed, he is hidden by a cupboard - we only see the ripples of his back as he weeps, and as the camera loiters, we are treated to a portrayal of pain that could not have been simulated with a standard close-up.
Cinematographer Christian Belger is no stranger to Haneke’s films, having previously worked with the auteur on both The Piano Teacher and Hidden. He received an Oscar nomination for his work here, which is more than justified as he provides an authenticity to the film’s events. It’s hard to imagine the film in colour – filming in black-and-whitet echoes the peculiarity of the village with cutting realism.
Haneke’s portrayal of the village is very well realised as he shows us a hierarchy, religious infatuation and family life that has rarely been touched upon, particularly to non-Germans/Austrians. The men rule the roost over the women and children with a strictness that is hard to comprehend, and sometimes disturbing to watch. The pastor ties his young son to his bed at night to prevent him “succumbing to the urges of his young body,” and a scene in which the doctor ends his affair with the midwife is shocking in its cruelty and lack of restraint. The attack is verbal but wounds deeper than any physical act as he tells her of his disgust at her bad breath and aging body.
These characters and their lifestyles are for Haneke the perfect roots for the evil of his film to grow. Perhaps none are more affected than the children, whose faces, full of desperation, live on in your memory long after the film’s end. Haneke’s ambition to show this growing evil is applaudable, and the film’s meanings are as susceptible and ambiguous as its conclusion. This may be somewhat frustrating to audiences who may feel, after serving an undoubtedly overlong running time, they are deserving of more closure.
That said, a return to moral balance or a simple resolution to the story would hardly be fitting of the film, or of Haneke. Instead, it seems better to consider the reasons why the mysterious events took place as opposed to the mystery man or woman responsible. As the baron’s wife notes the village is a place of “malice, envy, apathy and brutality,” and these seem to be results in the lifestyle of the villagers.
We consider this also in the light of the school teacher, a man who is portrayed ultimately as good. He does not concern himself with the envy of the other villagers and ultimately looks to serve others. His good nature is shown in particular with his pursuit of Eva to whom he is ever respectful - he contrasts the other villagers not just with the way his story ends but his actions leading up to it.
Eichwald is one of cinema’s most haunting locales, and the events there carried out between July 1913 and August 1914 (in Haneke’s world at least) are some of the most thought provoking and chilling cinematics of the director’s illustrious career. The talent on display from both cast and crew make this film not just a must see but Haneke’s greatest vision to date. LW
Film: City Of War: The Story Of John Rabe
Release date: 3rd May 2010
Certificate: 15
Running time: 120 mins
Director: Florian Gallenberger
Starring: Steve Buscemi, Daniel Bruhl, Ulrich Tukur
Genre: War/Drama
Studio: Metrodome
Format: DVD
Country: Germany/France/China
Florian Gallenberger's film follows the actions of a conscientious Nazi Party member who uses his political pull to provide shelter to members of a race being subjected to the brutalities of genocide. No, this is not the story of Oskar Schindler but that of John Rabe - the German businessman who used his Nazi influence to help provide a sanctuary for the civilians of Nanking throughout Japan's invasion of China.
John Rabe (Ulrich Tukur), a German businessman and member of Hitler's Nazi Party, is caught in a moral conflict when the Chinese employees of the Nanking-based factory he runs are targeted and killed in Japan's ruthless and barbaric invasion of China.
Unable to stand for the ill treatment inflicted by the Japanese troops, Rabe helps in the establishment of a Safety Zone designated and maintained by his fellow business colleagues, as well as missionary workers. It is here that Rabe fights to provide security for the Chinese civilians against the marauding invaders, while battling ill health and trying to remain loyal to the political party he so blindly believes in...
It is no great surprise that much of City Of War: The Story Of John Rabe evokes memories of Steven Spielberg's Oscar-winning Schindler's List, so similar are the stories of heroism perpetrated by both Rabe and his fellow businessman, Oskar Schindler. It is only unfortunate for director Gallenberger that the film, like the legacy of the man on whom it is based, will more than likely be left dwelling in the shadow of its more high-profile contemporary.
While being technically very good, and with some strong performances, the film simply remains too reliant on the opportunistic implementation of tried-and-tested, kitschy Hollywood gimmicks and sequences which often are not only likely fabrications imbedded into the case's reality - for instance, in no records is a wife of Rabe acknowledged to be of significance to his story in Nanking - but are also almost parasitical to the tale's main point of importance: the treatment suffered by the Chinese at the hands of the invading Japanese soldiers.
While Schindler's List is hardly going to be the complete and utterly faithful reconstruction of Schindler's story – and, of course, there is something to be said for creative writing instructor Robert McKee's claim that film is simply a metaphor for real life - the film never succumbs to allowing trifling subplots to dilute the more emotive storyline. Though there are periods where Schindler spends time self-reflecting, his emotional processes are influenced always by the trials endured by the Jews, his opinion of them and the way that he can make a difference for their benefit. Rabe, although conscious of the Chinese, never quite seems fully devoted when he has more direct, personal concerns, such as a drama with his fictitious wife and a barely consequential medical condition to contend with.
Gallenberger never goes so far as to develop any Chinese characters worthy of making a significant emotional contribution to the film, and it is this neglect that goes a distance to undermining the whole affair. The only Chinese character explored is that of Jingchu Zhang, who plays a schoolgirl serving as little more than a propagator of nuisance and a romantic interest for one of the Safety Zone committee members in an aimless subplot that further makes incidental the slaughter of the thousands which are portrayed throughout as little more than needy, huddled cattle awaiting their cull. Her contribution does nothing to sate the film's need for an emotional representative on behalf of the Chinese, whose pain far outweighs that of their eventual saviours.
Instead, this is a study of how the Nanking massacre affects the Western characters, with subplots engineered to bind and heighten the characters' emotional stakes. And as a film that cares more to study the Westerners than study the mindset of the real victims, it at least brings out of its main actors a couple of compelling performances, with lead Ulrich Tukur (The White Ribbon) first in line for commendation for his effective portrayal of Rabe. Tukur paints him as a sensitive gentleman in possession of a solid moralistic core, but hindered by a crippling naivety that sustains, for the most part, his poignant faith in the corrupt Nazi regime.
The character of Steve Buscemi - one of the chief hopes for the film's acknowledgement by English-speaking audiences - is capable enough but is restricted to spending his time saying how awful things are where more effective imagery could have done the job. The other supporting actors are, for the most part, par.
The soundtrack is stirringly powerful throughout, while the cinematography, complemented by archive footage from the killings, does a good job of painting a landscape so wracked with pain that you wish sometimes it was explored in more depth. At one point, Rabe peeks through a hole in a fence to get an obscured glimpse of the decapitation of one of his workers. A film more interested in the Chinese perspective - while remaining sensitive enough not to allow it to develop into a voyeuristic gore fest - might have dared to show it more explicitly and allowed the gravity of such individual atrocities to be of at least equal emotional importance as the fanciful, distracting story strands involving the main characters.
The neglect of the film to embrace the full emotional, psychological and graphic horror of "The Rape of Nanking", among one or two other qualms, leaves it a disappointingly forgettable depiction of one of the most important and profoundly moving stories to emerge from the Second World War.
One of the most cold-blooded massacres in human history, but one that could have benefitted from more often venturing outside of the main protagonist’s and his friends' personal troubles to bear witness to the heinous crimes perpetrated on the Chinese public. DS
Film: Seraphine
Release date: 29th March 2010
Certificate: PG
Running time: 120 mins
Director: Martin Provost
Starring: Yolande Moreau, Ulrich Tukur, Anne Bennent
Genre: Drama/Biography
Studio: Metrodome
Format: DVD
Country: France/Germany
The opening of this film establishes, at a beautifully meditative pace, the world in which Séraphine Louis lived. Director Martin Provost not only renders a believable rural pre-war France but imbues it with the unique sensibilities of his central character. A biography focusing on the later life of French painter Séraphine de Senlis, as she was also known, whose difficult upbringing, obsessive relationship with religion and psychological illness produced work, in equal measure, fragile and fevered. The film succeeds, first and foremost, because it sensitively and tenderly paints a picture of life, as viewed through this prism.
The story opens in 1914, in a Europe whose well-tended country-house gardens and quiet villages are being drawn under the looming cloud of war. Despite this, mounting racial tensions and the staid social hierarchy, the town of Senlis is a picturesque place, where the rich retreat from Paris and the glory of nature flourishes.
A 50-year-old Séraphine (Yolande Moreau) is introduced; a hunched eccentric who divides her time between the drudgery of manual labour and her private passion, painting. Whilst working as a cleaner, in a large country house, she meets a wealthy German art collector Wilhelm Uhde. A chance encounter with one of her paintings ignites his interest, and he resolves to uncover Séraphine’s considerable body of work. However, as the climate changes and conflict engulfs this small community, he is forced to flee, leaving Séraphine to an uncertain future in a land newly occupied by German forces.
We rejoin the story in 1927, derailed somewhat by the screenplay’s only major stumbling block, as Wilhelm, accompanied by his lover Helmut Kolle and doting sister, Anne-Marie, return to Senlis. The remainder of the film concerns itself with the art collector’s reunion and reconciliation with his former protégé, her own artistic rise, and subsequent battle with mental illness…
Yolande Moreau is note-perfect as Séraphine, and despite shouldering nearly all of the screen time, she never flinches in the role. Her performance is a triumph of commitment and restraint. She inhabits the part utterly, whether she is hunchbacked and marching across gorgeously framed countryside, whispering to a canvas or bathing naked in a river. Séraphine is portrayed as somewhat inarticulate, especially when compared to the other “artistic” personalities in the film, and for the large portions of her screen time, when she remains mute, Moreau is able to communicate so much with her physicality. Her performance gives us all the empathy, compassion and raw outpourings of emotion that we need to invest in the film.
With the majority of the direction and writing focused squarely on Séraphine, the film does, in certain cases, struggle to flesh the auxiliary characters; despite some strong performances from the supporting cast. Ulrich Tukur is good as Séraphine’s some-time benefactor; Wilhelm Uhde convincingly juggles vulnerable moments as a man dealing with his taboo homosexuality, and a harder edge as a successful art dealer; and similarly good, although in a significantly smaller role, is Anne Bennent as Wilhelm’s sister Anne-Marie - her nervous energy works well when played against Tukur’s more reserved turn. Less successful are Genevieve Mnich as the overly villainous Mme Duphot and the rather flat Nico Rogner, as sickly-painter Helmut Kolle.
These are minor failings, especially when it is resolutely Séraphine’s world view that we are shown. In this context, it is forgivable that the fringe characters are underdeveloped. A considerably greater problem is the structure of the film. It is divided into two distinctly different halves, events before and after the war. The trouble is that the actions of certain characters do not make sense when they are reintroduced in 1927 - why does Wilhelm not seek out Séraphine sooner, and why is the war so strangely absent? Nothing is revealed of the protagonist’s time during the war, or indeed the following decade. It is suggested that the time has been hard for her, but it has also been a period of real artistic growth. For a film that is so concerned with sources of inspiration, and the subsequent act of creating art, it seems strange that this crucial time in Séraphine’s life goes unmapped. Perhaps this is as a result of scant historical detail, or else due to time or budget constraints, but nevertheless it is noticeable and jarring point in the film.
Ultimately these problems pale into insignificance, in a film this wonderfully realised and executed. The cinematography is subtle with occasional, beautifully-judged, flourishes of artistic flair - especially in its treatment of the paintings themselves. Similarly, the score is a measured and fitting accompaniment, drifting in and out of the scenes in melancholic refrains. In the end, however, it is Séraphine, or rather Yolande Moreau, that makes this film.
Watching a portrayal of this singular talent, played by a woman equally singular in her pursuit of the role, it captures your attention and affection throughout this hushed, minor-masterpiece.
Film: The Lives Of Others
Release date: 17th September 2007
Certificate: 15
Running time: 137 mins
Director: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck
Starring: Martina Gedeck, Sebastian Koch, Ulrich Tukur, Hans Bauer, Ulrich Mühe
Genre: Thriller/Drama
Studio: Lionsgate
Format: DVD
Country: Germany
A lengthy political thriller that doesn’t have you snoozing by midway. Not a Matt Damon vehicle then!
Gerd Weisler is a leading Stasi officer dedicated to the socialist cause; assigned to oversee the surveillance of playwright George Dreyman, whose loyalty to the SED (Social Unit Party) has been called into question.
As a matter of DDR security, Weisler goes about his work with his usual discipline and efficiency (setting up surveillance HQ in the suspect’s apartment’s attic, and bugging the premises), but he soon has his staunch beliefs called into question, as he discovers there are ulterior motives behind his assignment – and realises that his own life is particularly unfulfilled…
The film is quick to paint Weisler as a remorseless and an unflinching character – opening with footage of an interrogation he undertook with a person suspected of helping a friend flee to the West, a recording of which is being used at a Stasi college, we are left in no doubt that Weisler always gets ‘his man’ – when he marks a cross against the name of a student who dares to question the morality of the methods he adopts here, you sense he’s capable of a lot more.
His life in East Germany, like him, is painted as cold and uninviting. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck is perhaps a little heavy handed with the stereotype here, but it’s effective for the character’s and the story’s quick development – when we visit his flat, in an almost desolate area, it’s minimal, almost bare, and when Weisler wants affection he’s forced to pay for an overweight, unattractive prostitute who literally ups and leaves for her next client as soon as he’s finished.
Given the darkness that pervades his own existence, its little surprise when Weisler begins to warm to his subject, who lives a more comfortable and joyous lifestyle –he steals an illegal western book from his apartment, with the unsubtle bright yellow cover contrasting with the otherwise washed out, grey visuals. The film lights here also, to show how his bleak life is instantly enriched.
The bald Ulrich Mühe is well cast as Weisler, ably conveying his character’s intense nature aesthetically alone, and very subtle in his development of a new found awareness and conscious – the scene in a lift where a child reveals his father’s dissident views is particularly important, offering a clear indication of Weisler’s inner struggles.
Another significant development is when Weisler realises the real motives for his friend, Minister Bruno Hempf, having him undertake this operation. As with Weisler, the audience is made aware of the Culture Minister’s nature straight away – when he takes a fancy to the playwright’s actress girlfriend (played by the darkly beautiful Martina Gedeck) he crudely grabs her rear in public.
Thomas Thieme is suitably seedy in the role of the corrupt minister, systematically raping the playwright’s girlfriend (who fears the damning of her career if she doesn’t accept these events), and showing there is no loyalty to Weisler when the results he expects do not materialise. This is all about personal gain and not about the greater cause, which is what Weisler has always believed in.
As Weisler begins to assist the increasingly downtrodden playwright (removing/withholding evidence), director von Donnersmarck heightens the tension, and does a great job of illustrating the confused and depraved nature of the time, where an actress fearing the end of her fairly insignificant career would be willing to see a man she loves dealt a harsh and likely fatal punishment.
A humourless, dark and regimentally delivered thriller, perfectly representative of the time and the story, whose grip tightens to the very end. DH
