Oberst Redl

Brandauer again shows why reviews of his work often include the word 'magnetic' - You just don't take your eyes off him. His range is remarkable, his control of the minutest gesture superb, the subtlety of his physical screen presence majestic.

Szabo's direction is again precise but not heavy handed. If this doesn't have quite the sweep or sting in the tail of their previous collaboration, Mephisto, it is still one of the finest European films of its time.

The story is superbly crafted; to leave Muller-Stahl's Archduke Franz Ferdinand out until the last hour or so is an outstanding narrative technique, and if Muller-Stahl's performance is a trifle one-note, that's as much due to narrative constraint as actor ability - he's still pretty effective, and its one of his best roles.

Szabo has an ability to investigate history in a curiously personal and touching sense of the individual, but leaving that individual dispassionately, and gazing at him objectively; thus what comes across is a really detailed and involving character struggling against an incredible force of inevitability. Like Visconti, broad strokes, but painted in the minutest of details - only unlike Visconti, full blooded and direct.

It's at times witty, literate and touching, but always beautiful.

Reviewers who emphasize the cinematic excellence of this film - superb casting and acting, subtle dramatics, beautiful cinematography - are absolutely correct. But, and this is a very big but, those who see the film for the first time (or watch it repeatedly, as I do) should be aware that as a presentation of the Colonel Redl espionage case, it is preposterous.

The best starting point for evaluating the film's historical quotient is to go back to E. E. Kisch's reporting on the case. Kisch, a colorful Prague journalist for the German-language newspaper "Bohemia", broke the case in 1913, several days after Redl's "compulsory suicide" and a misleading report put out by the General Staff in a Viennese newspaper. Within days the efforts of the General Staff to mislead the public about what had happened was undermined by Kisch and then by other reporting within Austria- Hungary and abroad. Kisch came back to the story after WWI (in which he served as a corporal in the infantry, then, after being wounded, as a lieutenant in the army's press service), examined documents, and interviewed Redl's colleagues and participants in the case. This resulted in a short book, published in Berlin in 1924 (the 1931 Czech-German film in the IMDb list credits Kisch as a screenwriter and uses the title of his book for the film's title).

There is an English translation of this book in a 1997 bio-anthology of Kisch and his work as the star of "reportage" by the American writer, Harold B. Segel. The other English source for information about Redl's life and career is a 1959 "interpretive biography" by Robert Asprey, "The Panther's Feast"(Asprey managed to get access to ministerial archives with information on the case that had never been seen by journalists or "outsiders" before). John Osborne cited Asprey's book as a source of information for his Redl play, "A Patriot for Me", which, though totally fanciful, gives a more credible psychological portrait of Redl than Szabo does. And there are half-a-dozen books about the case written in German between the 1920s and just a few years ago (to Austrians Redl is "the spy of the (20th) century"). The consequences of Redl's years of very well- paid espionage on behalf of Russia were assumed by his contemporaries to have been devastating at the outset of WWI, though historians argue about just how damaging his treachery was.

Szabo creates a portrait of a self-conflicted man destroyed by an opportunistic and self-centered dynasty and government – a man set up for false charges. This is the complete opposite of the truth. While the General Staff was remiss in its opportunity to investigate while Redl was still alive (demanding "honor-code" suicide instead) and went out of its way to suppress the truth, it eventually got out, and the man at the center of the real story should arouse neither sympathy nor admiration: he was venal, crafty, and ice-cold during his approximately 10 years of espionage, betraying classified military information and selling out numerous Austrian agents to Russian intelligence. He did it to fund an extravagant lifestyle (whether or not he was originally blackmailed into spying by the Russians). Historically, he ranks with other high-ranking "moles" within a nation's intelligence service (akin to Kim Philby, for instance).

Szabo's portrait of Archduke Franz Ferdinand, the alleged mastermind of a conspiracy to ensnare Redl, is also ridiculous. As unlikable and prejudiced as he was, the Successor, like his uncle, the Emperor, dreaded military scandals, and would hardly have created a plan to publicize a very demoralizing one, given Redl's high position and glorious reputation within the General Staff. In response to the discovery of Redl's treason he went after the General Staff with a vengeance, though, for practical and political reasons he could not have its Chief, General Conrad von Hoetzendorf, dismissed at the time. But, Franz Ferdinand, who thought that Hungarians were the major internal threat to the monarchy's stability, has always been a popular villain in Hungary.

Reviewers who comment on the "betrayal theme" in the movie are also right. Szabo's version presents a fictionalized Redl story that reflects the repressive Hungarian state and its obnoxious secret political police in the 1950s, the period of his coming to age and his entry into film-making, when he too was compromised by the system. The Kubinyi family connection of the film is also fictional, possibly based on novels by Robert Musil or Sandor Marai, both well-known in the Hungary of Szabo's youth. In life Redl had been through a series of homosexual dalliances with both civilians and other military men, and one of the factors in his downfall was a rash decision he made during a romantic crisis with his protégé (and former paramour) , Lieutenant Stefan Horinka of the 7th Uhlan Regiment. Though different names are used, this relationship is at least depicted in the 1931 and 1955 Redl films.

The events of Redl's fatal day (May 24th-25th, 1913) are an exciting crime and detective story, completely missing in Szabo's film, where Kubinyi is sent as a messenger demanding suicide and Redl agonizes because he knows he is not guilty of treason. In reality, hours after his detection as a spy, Redl was confronted by a commission of four officers who supplied him with a pistol, which he used within several hours to blow his brains out. That's the Redl story, though more recent historians have discovered many flaws in Kisch's version and there are still some unknowns due to destroyed files (done in order to protect General Staff officer reputations) and though Kisch went to his grave in 1948 without fully revealing his "inside" sources of information on the case.

So, viewers beware. While Oberst Redl is truly a wonderful film, it strays so far from the record that its presentation of the case is historically meaningless. The meaning comes from Szabo's experience, not Redl's.

Unlike most people who know both films (there aren't many!), I've always preferred this 1985 film to Klaus Maria Brandauer's - and director István Szabó's Oscar winning 'Mephisto', from 1981.

'Mephisto' won an Oscar, for Foreign language film and as such, István Szabó remains Hungary's only ever Academy Award recipient. The two films have similarities, with Brandauer giving superbly nuanced yet powerful performances and both as high ranking Military Officers, German in Mephisto and Austro-Hungarian in this.

Colonel Redl is a made up character that is drawn from historical records and the story that ensues is based on John Osborne's play 'A Patriot for Me' and we follow Redl as boy, all the way through to his high-ranking officer just before the onset of the Great War. It's a compelling study of the decaying Empire that so dominated turn-of-the- century Europe and the bubbling resentments and labelling of ethnic groups within that start to make us feel us uncomfortable as the recognisable Monster that was to become becomes apparent.

It is Brandauer's calm and chilly persona that is both compelling and slightly disturbing. In Mephisto, in comparison, he is far more dramatic, even over-the-top, though the critics might say otherwise. As Redl coolly bulldozes his way through the ranks, craftily getting on the right side of everyone he needs to, his feelings toward a younger officer let slip and after the affair, his decimation from power is calculatingly abrupt and shocking, revealing a paranoid State.

There is excellent support from Armin Mueller-Stahl, recognisable from many English speaking films, usually as a German SS officer, as the doomed but supremely powerful and influential Archduke Franz Ferdinand.

The period detail is perfect as is the cinematography, looking radiantly splendid in the great halls and ballrooms, beautifully evocative in the snowy wastelands and suitably grim in the film's darker moments.

As I said, Colonel Redl certainly deserves to be as known as Mephisto - and of course, both far more than just specialist films for Art House lovers, that they seem to be casually categorised as.

My DVD was a Korean release that, once the subtitles were changed to English (from the default Korean) played like just like a 'normal' one.

I really enjoyed this film! They are so fantastic in describing how Austria-Hungary went from high to low in a short period of time. As a matter of fact when I move around territories which used to be part of Austria-Hungary that country was more successful country then are the countries that exist on its territory save may be Austria today.

The plot is great, shots of fantastic vistas of the former Empire and acting is excellent, especially EMB.

If you are history student of Austria-Hungary period this is a definitely film for you.

If you are from Austria or Hungary or other countries that inherited territories of the former Monarchy, you have to see this film, it is a part of your history.

The second of director Istvan Szabo's collaborations with actor Klaus Maria Brandauer (I have also watched the first, MEPHISTO [1981, but not the third, HANUSSEN [1988]) is a well-mounted and stately production, typically meticulous and thought-provoking, highlighting the actor's towering leading performance. Once again examining the country's history at the time of a major upheaval (the eve of WWI) and with Brandauer - very ably inhabiting every facet of his complex role - giving another subtle, compelling portrayal of misjudged pride and the shameful exposure (thankfully, the homosexual angle of the plot is barely stressed) at the hands of the regime he had devoted his life to serving.