Les ailes du désir

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!

Digging deep into the thoughts and dreams of mortals and the angels who look after them, WINGS OF DESIRE is a masterfully-made work of art and Germany's finest. It matches lavish cinematography, flawless direction by Wim Winders, impressive performances and a simple plot told with such brilliance, symbolism and will.

The first half of the film resembles more like a beautifully-painted mosaic or an avant-garde film showing empathy for every character brought about by the screen even showing traces of the Nazism era. Here, the idea of supernatural beings that indirectly assist humans in day-to-day life is introduced. The mystifying beings are unseen to everyone except to the young-at-heart. Hovering atop statues or wandering inside public libraries or apartments, they see and know everything as Winders etches the black-and-white world of the angels. The story evolves when one angel Damiel (Bruno Ganz) wonders what it is like to be human, how it is like to be able to feel, to hold or to be seen. Once he comes to the aid of attractive trapeze artist Marion (Solveig Dommartin), he feels a spiritual devotion he has never felt before.

Winders' slow-but-steady rate gives time for the viewer to contemplate on the questions a child asks ("Why am I me and why not you? Why am I here and not there? When did time begin and where did space end?"). He allows the audience members think what they want to think in a new light instead of manipulating them. The scenario of a ghostly being falling for a human may seem overworked now (GHOST, JUST LIKE HEAVEN) but WINGS OF DESIRE is a fresh, innovative piece of cinema with remarkable photography and unbelievable performances. Henry Alekan's cinematography is both insightful and visually dazzling. Every camera angle takes on a new connotation. Ganz and Dommartin are equally irresistible as two different "people", who worlds apart from each other; both characters are looking for love, no matter how close Damien is from Marion. Peter Falk, playing himself, is an amusing attribute to the cast being "Columbo" in the popular TV show. Being a mysterious character himself, he metaphorically adds a little color to the film amidst all the spellbinding drama and discloses an entertaining revelation that helps the film progress.

This revolutionary masterpiece of craftsmanship is considered by many as the greatest non-US movie ever and it deserves all of its praise entirely. WINGS OF DESIRE breaks new ground in romantic and dramatic film making. Every scene in this movie offers a chance for hope, understanding and compassion. Unbearably creative, outstanding and poignant, this superbly-made motion picture is not another art-house flick. Astounding.

WINGS OF DESIRE was remade in Hollywood as the sleek yet disappointing CITY OF ANGELS(1997).

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.

A visually beautiful film, which boasts one of the most poetic and literary scripts ever- the dreamlike poetry of the dialogue fits seamlessly in with the overpowering visuals. The acting is of very high callibre too, with Peter Falk adding a very welcome dimension to the film and Bruno Ganz proving a master at acting via expression and nuance. The storyline is nice and simple and is given much additional poignancy and depth by the way Wenders directed, Henri Alekan photographed and the choice of music for certain scenes- the use of Nick Cave's "The Carney" is especially perfect for the scene in which it was used, as was the music during the main scene where we get to see Marion's Trapeze act- the music, visual mastery and the act itself combine to stunningly entrancing effect. That 100 people have given this film a 1/10 mark is almost beyond belief, as it is an absolute joy from start to finish. Rating:- ***** (out of *****)