Himmel ohne Sterne

Anna (Eva Kotthaus) is a factory worker in East Germany. Her five-year-old son Jochen, lives with his grandparents in the West and Anna wants him to live with her, so she abducts him. Along the way she meets Carl (Erik Schumann) who helps her with her son and they fall in love. This was a good drama/romance that kept me interested from start to finish, but nothing special about it. 7 out of 10. I was surprised to see a young Horst Buchhholz who plays a Russian soldier in this. It probably was his first major role in a movie, and he definitely went on to bigger and better things in Hollywood.

The Cannes Film Festival has had its fare share of controversy and throughout the 1950's it was dominated less by artistic than by political considerations. The year 1956 was its worst in this regard with no less than six films withdrawn as a consequence of diplomatic skirmishes. The Festival Committee had at least the courage to show Resnais' 'Nuit et Brouillard' despite disapproval from both the French and German governments but 'A Town like Alice' was culled so as not to offend the Japanese whilst Helmut Kautner's 'Himmel ohne Sterne' fell victim to protests from the Russians. This latter film has since come to be regarded as one of Kautner's most powerful if least known.

The doomed lovers Anna and Carl are touchingly played by Eva Notthaus in what is arguably her finest role and the likeable Erik Schumann with sterling support from the always good value Eric Ponto and Lucie Hoeflich as Anna's parents. There is also a taking performance from Horst Bucholz very early in his career as a Russian soldier who inadvertently contributes to the couple's fate.

Adapted from his own novel, Herr Kautner's direction is masterful and builds in intensity throughout and although we sense from the outset that Love will not conquer all, the last ten minutes of the film are shattering in their impact whilst the final solitary shot of boy actor Rainer Stangl as Anna's son is as emotionally telling as that of Brigitte Fossey being swallowed up by the crowd in Clément's 'Jeux Interdits'.

My admiration for this director knows no bounds and it is to be lamented that perhaps because of the vagaries of film distribution, he remains unappreciated outside his own country. He rose above the politics of the Nazi era and his genius represents a beacon in the cultural wasteland of post-war German cinema.