Destiny

Fritz Lang's DESTINY is an inventive, entertaining film that captured my imagination.

Somewhere in preindustrial Germany, a young couple sets out upon their life's journey. But Death takes the man away, and the woman will try anything to get him back. She confronts Death and begs for her husband, who responds, "I'm tired of being hated for doing God's will. I'll make you a deal: you get three chances to defeat me. If you succeed, I'll give you your husband back."

And thus the film takes us to palace of the Caliph, where a young Frenchman conspires with the sister of the Caliph to find true love's way. From there, it's on to Venice, where jealousy plays at rapiers with love. Finally, DESTINY takes us to mythic China, where the Emperor takes whom he wants, no matter whether she loves another.

DESTINY's framing device gives each of these tales an overarching urgency, but they'd work as well as stand alone short films. Lang cuts loose here, exploring film's ability to conjure palaces of the imagination, armies of magical miniatures, and the very gates of mortality as he tells the simple story of a woman trying to save the life of her one true love. This is a sumptuous film, full of lore, popular religion, and tales that could find a home in the _Arabian Nights_.

For many, Charlie Chaplin *is* silent film. That's fine, really - he served as my gateway to the era. For the person looking to explore silents outside the realm of comedy, DESTINY is a great place to start. It'll grab you early, it won't let go, and it'll make you glad you sat down with it.

Mostly Martha

I loved MOSTLY MARTHA.

Martina Gedeck, from THE LIVES OF OTHERS, is Martha. She’s obsessed with food, is incredibly Teutonic in her entire approach to life, and could really use a good holiday in Italy. Her kitchen is her inviolable domain, and the restaurant in which she works is an elite destination in her gray North German industrial city. She has issues, however: her boss is just as German as she is, she can’t relate to anyone except through the medium of food, and, well, she’s lonely.

Then, the changes start rolling in. First, circumstances force her to take custody of her niece, a role for which she’s entirely unprepared. Then, an Italian enters her kitchen as an assistant chef. Oh, the horror! An Italian! And he’s good! From there, the movie takes us on the journey of Martha’s development into a functioning woman who, while still obsessed with food, is healthily obsessed with food. That in itself is a rewarding tale, particularly if you enjoy gently romantic comedies. But what really makes this movie special is the way it gently pokes fun at Germans and German-ness, particularly in contrast to Italian culture.

MOSTLY MARTHA is sad, it's funny, and it's a joy to watch. DB and I will trade quips about tasting the sugar the other didn't use for some time to come.

The Lives of Others

THE LIVES OF OTHERS is a drab, claustrophobic, paranoiac movie. It's the kind of movie in which hope seems like a luxury and humanity is something to be hidden. In other words, THE LIVES OF OTHERS is East German to the core.

Here's the setup: a coldhearted Stasi officer volunteers to conduct surveillance on an East Berlin playwright whom he loathes at first sight. The playwright seems too smug, too politically connected, too comfortable in the arms of his beautiful paramour - there must be something wrong with the man, and the officer is certain he will find it. In fact, the officer finds much more than he bargained for, and the result is both heartening and devastating.

THE LIVES OF OTHERS is not a beautiful film. It looks cold, as if the whole thing were shot under bad flourescent lights. Its people do not have the benefit of postproduction digital airbrushing - they appear before us, stretchmarks and all, pale and sometimes very scared. Its food looks horrid; its homes, hotels, and bars dreary; and its parties tinged with desperation. In fact, it looks like the East Germany I imagined from childhood stories of relatives who smuggled foodstuffs and coffee through to unfortunate friends who found themselves on the wrong side of a line drawn at Potsdam. Not only does the movie recall the physical expressions of the East German experience, it recalls the psychological ones, as well. No matter how large one's country is, it's too small if one may not leave. And how does one live if even the unthinking remarks of one's own child can result in a knock on the door? In these aspects, THE LIVES OF OTHERS is unrelenting and more than a bit depressing.

But that unrelenting gaze and that depression earns the payoff of the film, when the smallest twitch of a facial muscle means the difference between despair and redemption. Like weeds pushing through pavement, humanity kept finding ways in East Germany, and it finds ways here, too. Those ways sometimes backfire, and they often end in tears: this, too, is East German. But they're there, and they make 137 minutes spent watching the lives of others well worthwhile.

M

M scared the hell out of me in two different ways.

The first is in its portrayal of Franz Becker and his crimes. Becker, brilliantly played by Peter Lorre, is cinema's first serial killer. Where some films might drench such a character in Kensington Gore, M does something much, much worse: it forces us to use our imaginations, replacing screams and shrieking music with forlorn shots of an empty placesetting, an empty staircase, and a gradually panicking mother calling, "Elsie! Elsie!" Additionally, M makes effective (and probably groundbreaking) use of Grieg's "Peer Gint Suite", which Becker compulsively whistles when he's on the hunt. I'll never hear that tune the same way again.

The second is SPOILERIFIC, so skip this paragraph if you want to remain SPOILER free. When Becker's dragged before the underworld's kangaroo court, the top criminal and commander of the proceedings makes a compelling speech in which he argues that, rather than be turned over to the police and (almost certainly) confined to an asylum, Becker should be killed on the spot. As he really gets into his speech, his voice rises and takes on the strident rythms of the polished public speaker. We realize that this character (who is wearing a leather overcoat) is arguing for the execution of the insane, and the crowd is with him. We remember that the movie was made in 1931, when the Nazi party was really gathering steam, and we wonder what impact this film had on their policies.

Ok, THE SPOILERS ARE OVER. It's safe now. Technically, the movie is just plain brilliant. It doesn't feel like a film that's being made by people who are still figuring out sound technology. Rather, it feels like a masterpiece. There's just the right mix of music, dialogue, and silence; there's a tracking shot that hadn't been equalled until 'Goodfellas'; there's mirror and window-reflection photography that's just plain stunning; and there's a narrative that will have you on the edge of your seat from beginning to end.

What a great movie.

Blind Spot: Hitler's Secretary; Downfall

Had I seen BLIND SPOT prior to DOWNFALL, I think I may have found it fascinating. Unfortunately, things didn't work out that way, and I spent 45 minutes with my finger on the "fast forward" button.

BLIND SPOT consists of two interviews with Traudl Junger, one of Hitler's secretaries and the protagonist of DOWNFALL. In the documentary, she tells the story which would be dramatized in the later picture, but she doesn't add a great deal to the dramatic version. If you dig talking heads, this might be the movie for you. Personally, I just zipped through it, reading the subtitles at double speed.

If you've seen neither picture and are interested in Junger's story, I enthusiastically recommend DOWNFALL, which was 2005's best movie. It's a harrowing experience that makes you care about people you actively want to kill. As Hitler, Bruno Ganz delivers a career - redefining performance in a film that never lets up. In this case, dramatization is better than reality.