Der Himmel über Berlin

The movie playbill for the American version of the movie (the one you see on the site) is quite misleading: a naked woman in the background with the title "Wings of desire" -- it almost looks as the movie should have some erotic content. But there's nothing here which will try to appeal to your immediate senses. This is a poignantly beautiful metaphysical excursion on what it means to be human. Wim Wenders has recognized the metaphysical nature of the movie by dedicating it to Truffaut, Ozu and especially Tarkovskij. And everything -- the bleakness of the landscape, the ubiquity of the Berlin wall, the anguish in which the characters are immersed -- acquires a deeper meaning when we see it through the eyes of two angels. And the sky over Berlin, with its angels, is the only thing that keeps together two painfully divided sides of the city, and the only perspective from which to see it as one.

But handle with care: if you're looking for a movie with an enthralling plot, a clear language and a reasonable pace, you'll be disappointed. The first time I saw this movie with a friend we laughed all the way. I've seen it more 5-6 times now and I've stopped laughing. I sit there and I'm mesmerized.

The movie was born without a script and it is a melting pot with dialogues by Peter Handke, improvised monologues by the actors, connecting material written by Wim Wenders. In one example, Wenders indulges too long in a scene just because he regrets removing it due to all the work the actress has made for preparing to be a trapezist. This is clearly against all rules and all common sense.

Despite all this the movie works and the reason is, the movie somehow manages to touch deep strings all the way through, because of its beautiful imagery (thanks to director of photography Henri Alekan), its eerie soundtrack, the disorderly collection of truly poetic dialogues/monologues, very inspired acting, and the impredictable combined effect of all this -- surely beyond what was planned by Wim Wenders himself. Should I add that the movie has created its own language for making its point?

The film has also become an incredible documentary on Berlin just before the fall of the wall.

A note to those of you who have only seen the bland, woefully wrong-hearted and half-assed "City of Angels", an unnecessary Americanization of this modern classic: this film leaves Nicolas Cage and Meg Ryan in the dust. Co-writer/director Wim Wenders spins a visually stunning tale of angels living in Berlin before the wall came down. As they float through the lives of all they encounter, one of them falls in love with a beautiful and lonely trapeze artist. He soon must choose whether or not it is worth sacrificing the endless grace of being an earth-bound angel to know what it is like to be human, to "see at eye level."

After having seen this film eight times or so, I can safely say that it is my favorite movie of all time. I have to watch it at least once a year and every time I do, I discover a new detail, while still being enchanted by the things that made me love this film in the first place. Although leisurely paced, every scene makes a valuable point about how our lives are touched by divinity every day.

In the first scenes after the opening credits, we see an aerial view of Berlin, but this is a Berlin that doesn't exist anymore. It's a city divided, between East and West, that still bears the scars of the second World War, and can't rebuild where the Wall stands in the way. There is a vast vacant lot where the cultural center of pre-war Berlin stood, with the facade of an old station, and nearby stands a bomb-shelter and the tower of a bombed-out church.

It is from this church where an angel stands looking out over the city, and then we see the people going about their daily lives. All this is shot in black and white, and we realize that we are seeing the world through the angel's eyes, seeing the same colorless world and hearing the same thoughts of the people around. As the story goes on, we realize that this is not just one angel in Berlin, for he goes to a car showroom, and compares observations with another angel. Then we go to the library, which is filled with angels.

The first library scene is my favorite scene of the whole movie. It is here where we see many different people studying, and their thoughts reverberate around the space until they are just a murmur, which becomes music. Because there are so few distinct voices, it doesn't matter that they are in German, which I don't understand. However, there was one young man studying the creation story of Genesis in Hebrew, which ties in with a later point where the two lead angels are discussing how they witnessed creation. First they saw the glacier recede, then fish and animals appear. They laughed when they saw the first biped, someone who shared their image, but they stopped laughing when the people learned how to make war.

As idyllic as the angels' lives are, it is through the pain we humans endure that know we are fully alive. And this is what the angels miss, to see colors, to touch, to taste, to smell, the ability to love and affect others' lives. The children can see them, but the adults may at times only feel some vague presence. They lay hands on people's shoulders, to try to understand their feelings beyond mere words. This is illustrated by a scene on a rooftop, where a man is about to commit suicide; as he sits on the ledge, an angel lays a hand on him as if holding him back, and when he jumps, the angel shouts `no!' For these angels are observers, spending their time being a presence among the living, not just to primarily serve as ushers to the afterlife (where I was sorely disappointed after watching "City of Angels," the American re-make). They are not harbingers of doom, but benign symbols of a creator's concern for humans.

Don't be turned off by the fact that it's in black and white, because one thing that really makes an impact is that it's only through viewing as an angel is it in monochrome, because when humans see the world, it's in color. A poem continues throughout the movie and ties everything together, repeating "When the child was a child..." and we realize that humans are the children, the ones younger than angels, just learning and enjoying life. The music adds a lot to the movie, since this film is more visual than verbal, which means that subtitles don't get in the way. I can't say enough about this film–it's wonderful!

If my grandchildren ever ask me what it was like back in the Cold War, I'll tell them to watch this movie. It is both frighteningly bleak and lyrically beautiful. It captures the spirit of the times (Western civilization immediately before the fall of the Berlin Wall) better than any movie I've ever seen. And it manages to be a love letter to those times while also showing the place and time in all its inescapable ugliness.

The overall plot moves forward pretty nicely for a movie where plot doesn't seem to matter all that much, and there are some beautiful vignettes, beautifully photographed, acted, and directed. I'm not sure how anyone can make it through the movie without falling in love with Bruno Ganz's angel. I think the movie's lyricism holds up well on multiple viewing -- as long as you liked it the first time. If the self-consciously art-house form bugs you, however, or you find the screenplay's "poetry" to be too facile, you'll probably find this movie grating. I, however, have never seen people reading silently in a public library without thinking of this movie . . . .

Many reviewers here fawn over this film and dismiss anyone who does not share their worship as being juvenile or a philistine. I've watched enough films to know whether a film is truly profound or whether it is pretentious. Wings of Desire sways towards the latter.

It has a great premise- angels (not winged creatures but men in cool black coats, similar to the portrayal of the dead in Orphee) watch over late eighties Berlin, observing the humans they see around them. One angel (Bruno Ganz) falls in love with a mortal trapeze artist (Solveig Dommartin). You would think that this would be a winning formula and therefore a brilliant film. I was disappointed to find out that although it may not be a bad film, it is by no means a brilliant one.

The cinematography is great, although the monochrome angels and technicolour humans had already been done 40 years previously. We get some great shots of urban Berlin, which gives the film an interesting cultural context. It almost acts as a time capsule, and had Wenders concentrated on this aspect of the film, the film would not seem as unfocused and vague as it does.

The worst part of the film is the dialogue, which is pseudo-philosophical naval gazing. I don't mind introspective dialogue but when every sentence is some vague existential musing, I tend to tune out, which is fatal for this film as the action is essentially in their internal monologues. The trapeze artist's final monologue could have worked had the whole film not been composed in that way but the monologue is basically a repetition of what has been constantly repeated throughout the film. Some arty types might forgive this because they see it as some universal truth but for most, it is simply repetitive to the point at which it becomes meaningless.

I forgot the love story! Seems that Wenders did that too because it only makes an appearance in the last half-hour or so of the film, although there were tiny hints earlier on. Because the romance is so unprominent for most of the film, when it finally comes to it, you wonder why the film was two hours long and not one hour. Apart from the misjudged monologue by the trapeze artist, it is quite a romantic scene. Her dress is stunning.

Potentially a great thought-provoking film but self-indulgence on the director's/writers' part causes the film to feel unfocused and vague. The film tries to deny its artificiality by adding in lots of 'profound' dialogue but there are many points in the film where it comes off as very superficial. It's a bit like a New Romantic pop video.