Alice in den Städten

The references between Wenders' films and cinema in general are utterly diverse. They reach from direct hints and citations to more subliminal connections. And therefore, mainly the early films of De Sica resonate in Alice in the Cities, especially the neo-realistic masterpiece Ladri di biciclette. In the main protagonists' (journalist Philip and young girl Alice) search for her grandmother in the German Ruhrpott, we can see traces of the father's and his son's search for the bicycle in Rome. Both films are open for sidelong glances, for moments that don't want to give in the dramaturgic concept of the story. But, actually, you don't have to watch De Sica's film to lose yourself in the sheer beauty and poetry of Alice in the Cities, where documentary elements win over fiction and found pictures triumph over staged ones; when shots of moments fall out of the stream of images and reveal an almost boundless yearning.

German journalist Philip Winter is suffering from writers block as he travels across the East Coast of America, he instead chooses to snap Polaroids instead of writing, once satisfied that that will tell his story of American culture and landscapes he sets off to return to Germany. At the airport he meets Lisa and her nine year old daughter, Alice, getting flights home prove to be difficult and the three of them end up stopping overnight at some digs. Lisa disappears and leaves Alice in Phillip's care, thus sending the two on an odyssey as they travel together thru Europe in search of Alice's grandmother, but it's the journey that each of them take mentally that will be of most importance.

This is the first film of what is regarded as Wim Wenders loosely connected road trilogy, following on from this picture would be Falsche Bewegung in 1975 and then culminating with the quite brilliant Im Lauf der Zeit in 1976. Quite what Wenders intentions were with this picture is is not immediately clear, for certain his framing {obsession} with American culture comes to the fore from the off, both in the changing landscapes and the use of American pop and rock music. But as things progress it's the simple message of purpose that a chance encounter can have, our odd couple here are at first deeply suspicious of each other, not caring for each others company in the slightest, but as time moves on they begin to understand each other and tune into each of their respective mental waves. Life quite simply found a way thru two differing humans thrust together unwillingly, it's not deep or remotely profound, it's simple and warm in its execution, and the final (tremendous) pull away aerial shot that Wenders gives us crowns this accomplished and very enjoyable piece. 7.5/10

I might have been Alice. Or was I too fearful, too cared for, too lost in myself? Was I born at the wrong time? When I watch this film, I'm reminded of a line from another of director Wim Wenders' films: "Life is in colour, but black & white is more realistic". I'm still not sure if I believe that, but there are memories that seem more a thing of light and shadow than of colour. And this is, after all, a black & white film. "Alice in the Cities" is as much about its other main character, Philip Winter, as Alice herself. Him, I have been. Lost out on the highways of New Brunswick and Maine, lonely hotel holidays all by myself with no one to comfort or to talk with. I wanted to smash that television just as he does in an early scene, but it was my only companion through the long night ahead.

"Alice in the Cities" is the first of three consecutive films by Wim Wenders about the open road, each starring Rüdiger Vogler as a similar, if not identical character. The second, "The Wrong Movement" (Falsche Bewegung) (1975), is an incredibly difficult slog of total human alienation. The third, and much better than the second film, "Kings of the Road" (Im Lauf der Zeit) (1976) is similar to this one, as Mr. Winter continues his journeys through the German countryside.

This is a film about childhood relationships - not those we have with our peers, but those of a greater age. This makes perfect sense to me, as I would without fail seek out the company of an adult over the fleeting fancies of ones closer to me. To me, anything past fully grown would blur together, all except for the very old. Philip isn't comfortable with children, just as I have become over time. It is a hallmark of those who feel that they have never outgrown their own childhood, who feel so lost inside the adult world that the past feels foreign to a present that will never fit. Their belief that living in the future is futile keeps them grounded in today, their only salvation from a life spent dreaming.

Reality is harsh in "Alice in the Cities". The release comes where life lives. The precious and precocious sensation of human interaction runs like a vein through the center of everything. This is a story suitable for anyone, not because it holds back, but because it is all in. In love with the very same world it fears, holding the hands of the same dream on whose feet it steps on. Like we all do in life. This film feels exactly like those first two or three years of your earliest memories. If you let it, you'll be taken further back than you'd have ever imagined.

What's not to like about this early Wim Wenders road-genre film? It's an operatic overture in which he sets out the themes, the provenance, the pacing we will see again in again...in "Goalie," in "Paris, Texas," even in "Wings of Desire." The atmospherics are perfect, and I could watch a 40-hour miniseries in this vein. The final 35mm print is bogged down now and again in graininess from blow-ups of the original 16mm negative, but the characters are flesh and blood, credible, and well- played. Alice's interaction with the protagonist's guiding male penumbra is nuanced, relieving, and something a post-modern film could never achieve. The older I get the more I cherish and cling to Wenders' early work: more worldly than you think, and a zero-tolerance zone for cynicism.

Chance encounters that often seem purposeless may, upon reflection, turn out to be life changing experiences. Such is the case for German photographer Philip Winter (Rudiger Vogler) in Wim Wenders 1974 film Alice in the Cities, the first of three Wenders road pictures (Wrong Move, Kings of the Road). Traveling through the East Coast of America, Winter is overcome by lethargy and the monotony of the American landscape with its relentless vistas of billboards, chain motels, and fast food restaurants and has little interaction with his surroundings other than to take pictures as a detached observer. At one motel stop, he becomes so infuriated with commercials on television that he destroys the television set.

Blocked in his attempt to write an article describing his journey, he decides to return to Germany but finds that the flights are delayed for a day. At the airport, he strikes up a conversation with a German woman (Lisa Kreuzer) and her nine-year old daughter Alice (Yella Rottländer) also trying to return home. The three share a hotel room and things seem routine until the mother inexplicably departs, leaving a note telling Winter to bring Alice to Amsterdam where she will meet them. The mother, however, does not arrive and Winter is left to care for Alice until relatives can be located. Their relationship, at first filled with resentment, gradually develops into one of trust as they drive together in a rented car trying to locate Alice's grandmother in Wuppertal and the cities of the Ruhr.

Alice in the Cities is a sensitive and thoughtful film that suggests that everything in life has a purpose and that guidance is available if we remain open. The film mixes humor and pathos as the reluctant friends must contend with loneliness and alienation, themes often prevalent in Wenders' films. Rottländer's performance as Alice strikes just the right note. She is believable as the bright, feisty, and often charming little girl and her performance never crosses the line into sentimentality. As Winter slowly begins to see the time with her as an opportunity to embrace rather than as an obstacle to overcome, he finds that being responsible for another person can be transforming and that his quest is not so much for Alice's grandmother as for his own self.