Throughout 2010, we at Dapper & Debonair have expressed our love for Toronto in an assortment of ways. The facts are that the city is vibrant, the various architecture is more than worthy of our cameras and the people that inhabit it are inspiring; we are simply giving respect where it’s due. That love and adoration are sure to continue into 2011 and the new decade. From a film standpoint, there is an essential link between the big-time metropolis and cinema. Most easily identifiable is that they both came to fruition and developed starting around the same time. I take personal pleasure in films that show love for a certain city; the romance of Paris or the hedonism of New York and L.A. This is one of many reasons that, when asked, I state that Wim Wenders’ film, Wings of Desire, is my favourite film. (Tangent: I despise claiming any piece of culture or art as a favourite, or even creating a top 5-10-25 list. Everything has merit. But, after a conversation with @djmddsc, he said to me “surely you have some films that you watch more often than others.” I now go by this rule when discussing favourites)
Wenders was a German director working in America in the 80′s. In 1987, he returned to his hometown of Berlin and was almost immediately overcome by the atmosphere of the city. This was not the Berlin he remembered when he had left. The city was chaotic, the people were distant – the wall had left a dark scar on the souls of his beloved people. Wenders was inspired by how suffocated the city was and drew up a story about angels watching over his Berliners. A minimal script was assembled in a short amount of time and Wenders hired close friends and long-time film acquaintances to fill the lead roles and production team. He even convinced cinematographer Henri Alekan, 78 at the time, to come out of retirement to work on the project. The project that came to be was Wings of Desire, now considered a classic art film.
The story begins with two angels, Damiel (Bruno Ganz) and Cassiel (Otto Sander) watching over the people of West Berlin. The angels are dressed in long, black trenchcoats, which were the height of fashion at the time in Berlin. They can see everything and hear everything, but the humans are unable to see or hear them. The camera, and thus the audience, are privy to what the angels see. The inner thoughts of the Berliners are jumbled together in a beautiful cacophony. The view of the angels is shown in an exquisite black and white, through a camera filter crafted by Alekan using a 100-year-old pair of his grandmother’s stockings. Damiel and Cassiel wander the city, occasionally meeting up to relay their documented observations. While the angels are invisible to the humans, the humans are not entirely oblivious to their presence. If an angel reaches out to a human in need, the human experiences what could only be considered a sublime moment of clarity. In his observations, Damiel comes across Marion (Solveig Dommartin), a trapeze artist at a circus. Perhaps it is because Damiel notices Marion is perfectly human, but he becomes entranced by her and the story tells of his eventual decision to leave the world of angels and fall to earth (literally) to pursue a human life and a human love.
At this point in time, you weren’t actually allowed to film the wall. The Soviets on guard would hold up mirrors so the camera would end up filming itself. And filming in East Berlin was strictly forbidden. One of the gems of the film is a short scene that’s come to be known as the Angel’s Nightmare. The scene is meant to convey Cassiel’s torment at being, mostly, uninfluential in easing the pain of humans. The scene is a handheld, sped up race through East Berlin. The crew was indeed denied permission to film on that half of the city, but Wenders badly wanted the scene. One of his crew volunteered to sneak into East Berlin during the wee hours of the morning, and book it through the streets and buildings to get the footage Wenders wanted.
As with all great films, this is a film that continues to reveal its power and its magic with each viewing. I manage to pick out important nuances and learn from Wings each time I sit down to take it in. A part of this, when it comes to films about metropolises, is that you start to understand a small fraction of what it meant to be in that city at that point in history. The film, in many ways, addresses what it means to create and to be a story. During the famous library sequence early in the film, Damiel and Cassiel come across an old man (Curt Bois). The man recites from Homer’s Odyssey and later, in another scene, contemplates what Berlin once was and what it might have become. Peter Falk (yes, Columbo) plays himself in a subplot throughout the film. He is an actor, playing an actor in a film within a film. It is this self-referentiality that forces you to think about yourself as an audience member, but more importantly, about yourself as an actor (or director) in your own story. When it comes to films about cities, you also get to thinking about your role as an actor in the story of the city. Our city is the roots to the tree that we’ve grown into. Wings is about respecting the forest.
How does film, in general, relate to collective memory and history? In our current times, can we have collective memory without photography and film? Does our growing hyper-usage of technology make our situation relatable to that of the Berliners in the late 80′s? Are you alone? Or, better yet, do you want to be alone? Is it some definition of togetherness that defines us a human? Wings of Desire is the Anglicized name of the film. Der Himmel Über Berlin is the original title. That translates into The Skies of Berlin. I think of it like this; in a time where people felt beaten down and isolated, they still shared one thing: the skies over their city. And, just as importantly, they shared that film. It reflected (refracted?) something that people felt was true in their hearts. The reason we go to the theatre (instead of alone with your laptop) is to watch films is because we need to watch films with people. And when the credits roll, don’t get back on your phone and isolate yourself from the people who just shared that moment with you. Strike up a conversation about what you just experienced with your friends, or even a stranger. And this shouldn’t be just about film; it’s about music and art and culture, in general. Celebrate with your fellow man, the connections we make through love are the only things capable of breaking down the Berlin Walls that war and modern society have erected in our minds and hearts.
The camera work in this film is worth the price of admission alone. Though not an original idea, Wenders uses a switch between black and white and colour to convey the presence of the angels. When the angels are around, the scene is shot in the stunning black and white discussed above. When an angel isn’t present, or leaves a scene, colour floods the screen. Camera movement itself becomes visual poetry. In my opinion, the strongest example of this is the scene on the bridge with the dying motorcyclist. I’ll let the scene speak for itself.
As I discussed in my post about Let the Right One In, Wings has also had an American remake. Perhaps you’ve heard of or even seen City of Angels starring Meg Ryan and Nicolas Cage. Aside from the fact that Nic plays an angel who falls for a human, I’d hardly consider this a remake. Feel free to watch both and compare. While I argue above that all films have merit, I don’t believe they all have equal merit. But judge for yourself when it comes to City of Angels.
I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention that Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds make a cool appearance. Marion loves Nick’s music and the audience is subject to their music throughout the film. Marion and Damiel both go alone to a Seeds concert at the end of the film. There, we’re witness to a great live version of From Her to Eternity. This is a great little play on the whole film because Damiel went from Eternity to her. Also, take note at the awesome dancing by the Berliners.
I’ll leave you with this. This is indeed a love story, but it is by no means filled with the condescending clichés and stilted dialogue that comes to mind when you think of the “love stories” that are released with regularity here in North America. At it’s most basic, it is a love story between Damiel and Marion. But it is just as much a love story about a city, about film itself and, most importantly, being in love with being human.
I love you, Toronto. Dapper & Debonair loves you. Start 2011 off right, give Wings of Desire some of your time and let’s make this year beautiful for everyone in this city.
