Oh Boy

A Cup of Pleasure in film making that scored high with me because of its thoughtful humor, wonderful acting, crisp black and white film work, and commentary on the problems of young men fitting into a modern world. No slapstick comedy here. No raunchy jokes like we get in films made and about young people. The comedy is underplayed. The dialog is sharp and meaningful. I read that this is the film makers first effort. That in itself is amazing since the movie shows such maturity in the craft. I hope that there will be more films coming from the people who made this one. Who said that the Germans don't have a sense of humor. I thing that changing the title from Oh Boy to A Cup of Coffee in Berlin was a good move.

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.

"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.