Oh Boy

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 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.

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.

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.

I did not expect to laugh. Germans aren't famousd for their sense of humour but I could not help laughing out loud a few times. Some scenes were so cringy it turned out to be the only appropriate response.

Nothing really happens during the movie : the main protagonist just goes on to live his meaningless life and interacts with a few broken people. Yet the sountrack, the script and the acting make for a fun and light drama if such a thing is possible.

So much better than « Oslo 31 août » even though both movies could be summed up in the same way: 24 hours in the life of a priviledged young man who wanders in a capital city, and whose existence got sidetracked a few years ago.

Despite these similarities, and despite the fact that the Norwegian version is melodramatic, the German one turns out to be more realistic and even more profound. Niko is more relatable and likable while Anders wallows in self-pity and selfishness.