2006
Dir: Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck
There is something unmistakably calm about The Lives of Others. It is a trait of European fiction, perhaps more so than any other region, to do so much with so little. It is the understanding that humanity itself, its intricacies and emotions, is thrilling enough without the excess drippings of clichéd narrative conventions. Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck’s 2006 German thriller may just be the greatest example of this I’ve ever seen.
In East Germany during the 1980s, the seemingly emotionless Stasi agent Wiesler is tasked with spying on the under suspicion playwright Dreyman and his actress lover. As time goes on, Wiesler’s granite exterior begins to crack, as he finds himself empathising more and more with the tragic yet courageous artist, an emotional breakthrough that threatens not only Dreyman, but his own safety.
The calmest thing about The Lives of Others is Ulrich Mühe. As the Stasi agent Wiesler, he does a truly magnificent job of going from the cruel, hardened, emotionally deceased man we meet in the beginning, to the rejuvenated, enlightened, free being we see at the end. And he does all this without his face barely moving an inch. There is no mugging, no obvious emotional gurning; the change is subtle. We see it in his eyes. We see it at the corner of his mouth. It’s a superb piece of acting that holds the film together.
Mühe’s Wiesler actually becomes the emotional centre of the film, rather than the playwright Dreyman. Sebastian Koch does a fine job as Dreyman, but the character is a little bit too inaccessible at times. He is your typical handsome artist with his beautiful girlfriend, who smokes and looks cool permanently, whilst saving the world in his spare time. That’s great and all, but it’s far easier to locate ourselves within the ugly, balding man listening to the lovers shagging in a darkened room somewhere. It isn’t perverse, it isn’t sexual, it’s just a sort of pathetic curiosity into the lives of much more cool, exciting, talented, beautiful and interesting people than you. The Lives of Others is the ultimate voyeuristic delight, and when things start to get deadly serious later on for our hero, it feels as though you personally have been discovered watching this film late at night in your boxer shorts with a bacon sandwich in your hand. I don’t think I’ve ever rooted so hard for someone to escape.
It could also be argued that the film, given its subject matter, is a little too stylised. That is partly true. It looks gorgeous, with earthy browns of the writer’s world contrasted wonderfully with the metallic, soulless greys of the Stasi. The visuals are used effectively, so its stylish appearance is necessary, and, after all, it is a bloody film. It’s supposed to look good.
Another possible flaw is unintentional smugness. Considering the fact that everyone who worked on this film is a so-called ‘artist’, and a lot of the people watching it would also label themselves as such, it occasionally comes across as a bit ‘pat yourself on the back’, self-congratulatory, but very fleetingly.
The overall subtlety of the film forces you to stand up and take notice at the end when the tension increases, such a shock is it to the previously relaxed flow. Sometimes European cinema can become just as frenetic as others - you only have to look at any early Guy Ritchie film to know that - but The Lives of Others has captured that serene mood, similar to but obviously less strange than Werner Herzog’s earlier efforts, and allows the obvious seriousness of its story to do much of the work, anchored by a series of strong performances. The French film A Prophet by Jacques Audiard is another example of a contemporary European thriller with that know how to manipulate its audience using minimal effects.
Whilst The Lives of Others is not the greatest film ever made, as some have rather pretentiously hailed it, it is a breathtaking, serious, calm look at a very murky subject. Plus, it has an 80s freeze-frame ending, and that is never a bad thing.
**** ¼ / *****
Watch and enjoy.
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