Oh boy, 24 hrs. en Berlín

Jan Ole Gerster is still relatively unknown, a director who wrote and directed so far his greatest success. (A Coffee and Berlin, 2012) is a surprising tragi-comedy. Niko Fischer played by Schilling, who interrupted his studies and is trying to find himself in Berlin. The movie reflects the play of colors, through a black and white melancholy in the backdoors of Berlin, which brings a big city atmosphere. How quickly can someone get lost in the extent of a city? I Might emphasize extremely but it is a well-written story, with a crunchy plot, which is both dynamic and interesting. As far the idea of broken glass, leaves the feeling of hopelessness and disconnection. It is to focus on its central importance. I must mention the editing, sometimes it is dysfunctional in transition, so the story becomes a little bit stiff.

The main actor Schilling, offers extremely good emotional articulation, he has a strong repertoar, and brings a lot to the movie. There is a spectacle or a slow-burning rhythm that you feel in this flick. Almost a kind of sophisticated intelligent elegance.

When something is dying, there is born something new. Are we really all alone on this planet, or is it alOne? The ultimate truth lies within us. Stunning black and white tragicomedy with the addition of old school German actors, offers an exceptional journey, true the psyche of a young man...trying. Worth a sneak peak.

"Oh Boy" is a special movie and a very German one too. We follow the protagonist Niko Fischer, played by a superb Tom Schilling, through an entire day in vernal Berlin. This day is filled with several episodes in which director Jan-Ole Gerster manages to portrait the various aspects of life in modern Berlin - whether its the Kafkaesque bureaucracy one has to deal with on a daily basis or the never-ending struggle to find normality in the midst of hipsterdom and self-proclaimed avantgarde attitude which makes Berlin so popular amongst party people all over the world.

What is more, Gerster even succeeds to weave Germany's grim past into the story-line by reminding the viewer every now and then how pointless and redundant many aspects of our lives are in comparison with the unatoned horrors committed by Germans on their own turf and all over Europe.

Niko Fischer can be seen as the conscience of those of us who cannot help but deal with what it means to live in Germany and be a German on a daily basis. It might be even difficult to understand the movie in its wholeness for a foreigner as it is with literature by Hesse or Kafka, authors that largely contributed to this piece by making hilarious absurdity and tragedy confluent. The club toilet scene with Niko's schoolmate is key here and has almost Freudian dimensions.

Anyhow, I highly recommend watching this film, last but not least because I tremendously identify with it.

Oh Boy is somewhat reminiscent of Prozac Nation. The protagonist is an unlikable, spoilt child, leeching off others while breezing through life. It is an anti-"Coming of Age" film, showing how people refuse to "grow up" - even supposed adults. Niko's father is childish, his friend an underachieving actor and the former classmate he runs into is in a way still the little girl with a crush on him. It doesn't end there, even Germany itself refuses to "grow up", clinging to its Nazi past and sticking to absurd bureaucracy.

On top of having an amusing story, Oh Boy has lovely cinematography. Berlin looks great in black & white, and with the lazy jazzy soundtrack it sometimes seems like a 50s film. Quite a promising start from Gerster, who won just about every German film award around.

Whilst the nouvelle vague phenomenon continues in NY, it's seems Berlin, and Jan Ole Gerster actually has something to say.

At times comedic, at times serious, the writing is wonderfully wry and reminiscent of Woody Allen's darker moments. The tension between the black comedy and the underlying backdrop of Berlin's inescapable history is a knife edge Jan treads with the delicacy of a master.

Berlin looks fantastic in black and white, and the effortlessly understated cinematography and precise editing mean this film deserves all the hype that Frances Ha is getting and more.

Refreshing, and fresh this is an incredibly accomplished thesis film. And trust me, you can live without the trailer.

A movie describing the life of someone who can't find his place around people, how he feels that people became strangers to him, but actually, it's him becoming a stranger to himself.

The movie isn't much of an entertainment, at least it wasn't for me. Frankly, I was disappointed by the jazzy beginning, which led me to think more about Berlin as a future Woody Allen New York. But there are some scenes in the movie that were so simple to understand, they got me thinking.

The courage of one girl, which was once fat, which led her to stop ignoring what people say to her. Even if that means to put her in danger, she can't leave thoughts unsaid.

But by far, the phrase that struck me deeply, was that "People can't bear the dark anymore". It led me to think about the insecurity people feel these days, and how they're afraid to be alone with themselves.