L'espion du Caire

Winston Churchill has called 1942 "Their Finest Hour." The film opens at Rommel's HQ in April of 1942. The Afrika Corps is near the peak of its conquests. Rommel has conquered Tobruk only to lose it. He wants it back. An espionage team is formed to flank British lines to the south through the deep desert, cutting east toward the Nile and then north to Cairo & British HQ. An espionage team of five vehicles is formed. Erratum: It contains a 1949/50 Ford Station Wagon. Oh well. A team of two spies makes it into Cairo, and begins making coded radio transmissions of intelligence to Afrika Corps HQ. Implicitly, this intelligence aided Rommel in retaking Tobruk in late June 1942. Then the plot thickens, of course. There is a "Mata Hari" in this film (certainly not Lt. Morrison). There is a special role for the ever-charming Elisabeth Müller as a British staff officer (Lt. Kay Morrison) in Cairo. The chief spy is a dashing Capt. Eppler (played by Adrian Hoven). Both women are attracted, one attached and one moderately interested. The moderately interested Lt. Morrison could be accused of fraternizing with the enemy, but is cleared. I found the golf scene (at a Cairo country club) vaguely humorous. This film is generally well done, entertaining, and not a combat film. The end is historically predictable, of course. The title could be translated "Rommel Telegraphs Cairo." The German word "ruft" refers, in this case, to the transmission of Morse Code messages back and fourth.

In my opinion,it's really interesting to watch this sort of films and see to the other side of the hill,i mean the war by the perspective of the Germans.There is another title that i strongly recommend to those who intend to experience something different from all the American and British war movies easy to consume in which the "GOOD GUYS" beats the "BAD Nazis",the film i am referring to is DER STERN VON AFRIKA. I could cite other recent examples where one can have some knowledge of the war stories and adventures from the "enemies" point of view, but i think the great deal here is that we are talking about works made at a time close to historical events what shows some sort of authenticity and that is the case of ROMMEL RUFT KAIRO including the fact of being filmed in real locations at Cairo and Sahara desert.

Now, this movie is another typical example of german moviemaker´s perspective on ww2 in the fifties - though they almost were over. The story: a commando unit with a mission has to take the long road through the desert to reach cairo. The message: german wehrmacht in africa and the german spies were nice guys and should not be mistaken as nazis.This seems to be a cheap flick, in some rare moments reminding of "Lohn der Angst" - a real classic on men in the wilderness with a survival problem... Exploitation specialists and admirers of the africa korps might have fun with it - even though the tension never gets anywhere close to the real classics...

In the canon of postwar European war cinema, this 1959 film occupies a curious, if not somewhat liminal, position: too stylized to pass for sober reconstruction, yet too steeped in procedural detail to be dismissed as mere thriller. Shot at the tail end of a decade that saw West Germany confronting - cautiously and selectively - its wartime past, this film fits squarely into the micro-historical subgenre of espionage and sabotage narratives. Its focus on a minor but real intelligence operation lends the film a veneer of authenticity, though this is filtered through a stylized, deliberately opaque cinematic lens that was not uncommon in the West German productions of the Adenauer era. These were years of strategic forgetting and managed remembrance, and the war was increasingly portrayed in terms that sidestepped guilt and foregrounded competence, intrigue, and victimhood - a posture this movie clearly shares.

What distinguishes this film from many of its contemporaries is its tension between surface elegance and thematic murk. A notable feature is its on-location shooting in Cairo - a rarity for West German productions of the time - which lends the film a geographical and atmospheric concreteness that many comparable titles lack. The outdoor sequences in particular benefit from this realism: the dusty streets, colonial façades, and ambient chaos of a city under wartime pressure provide a textured backdrop that subtly enhances the sense of political and cultural friction. However, the film balances this with tightly composed interior scenes, many of which were clearly shot on controlled sets, creating an aesthetic oscillation between documentary immediacy and stylized theatricality. This duality serves a thematic purpose: the story unfolds in a city that is real and lived-in, yet layered with espionage, illusion, and manipulated appearances. Cairo becomes both a physical and psychological space - half theatre, half terrain - where nothing is entirely what it seems.

Cinematographically, it operates in a mode best described as post-expressionist noir. Lighting is used sparingly but precisely, often giving the impression of secrecy as a physical presence. A notable visual motif is the use of reflections - in glass, in mirrors, in water - which not only anchors the film within a visual tradition that owes much to the silent-era Kammerspielfilm, but also reinforces the themes of duplicity and performance. One can detect a certain stylistic kinship with Desert Fox: The Story of Rommel (1951), especially in its portrayal of Rommel as both myth and man, though here he remains more ghostly, more peripheral. That choice, while dramatically limiting, is conceptually fitting: this film isn't about the man, but the aura he projected and the machinations conducted in his name.

A more structurally and thematically appropriate comparison would be Five Fingers (1952), which, although a Hollywood production, shares this film's fascination with espionage not as action but as psychological performance and strategic ambiguity. Both films are concerned with the transmission of information rather than kinetic violence, and both construct their protagonists as ambiguous operators - intelligent, calculating, but emotionally restrained. However, Five Fingers frames this dynamic through a glossier, more personal drama, with its central figure rendered in near-operatic terms. By contrast, the 1959 film resists character depth in favor of schematic coolness. There is little empathy, little backstory - only function. The protagonist is not there to feel, but to act - or, more precisely, to calculate.

The performances tend toward the mannered rather than naturalistic, which again suits the film's theatricality. There's an almost Brechtian distance in how characters engage with each other - little emotional transparency, much guardedness. The protagonist, a German agent in Cairo, is rendered with an intriguing ambivalence: competent, yes, but never fully heroic, more bureaucratic than swashbuckling. This is no Odette (1950), where the emphasis is on personal sacrifice and emotional stakes; instead, the tension here is procedural and intellectual. Indeed, the tone is more akin to Five Fingers, though this film lacks the Mankiewicz polish and leans more heavily into the coded reserve of West German cinematic idioms of the late '50s.

Musically, the score is understated, almost perfunctory, avoiding the bombast that characterized many Allied-produced war films of the same era. It doesn't attempt to rouse or swell; rather, it underscores the cat-and-mouse nature of the plot with quiet, clipped motifs. The editing is similarly restrained - often elliptical, allowing time to lapse between scenes without orientation, which enhances the sense of dislocation and dissimulation.

What's perhaps most revealing is the film's historical positioning. In 1959, West Germany was deep in the Wirtschaftswunder, its postwar economic miracle, and the country's cultural production was marked by a careful dance around the recent past. This film reflects a desire to reframe the war not in terms of aggression or ideology, but as a stage for professionalism, competence, and the intrigue of individuals caught in complex systems. There is no moral reckoning here, nor even a clear narrative of good versus evil - rather, a cool, almost clinical look at wartime espionage, scrubbed of blood but rich in codes. One detects the ideological work being done beneath the entertainment surface: this is a war film that neither mourns nor condemns, but merely observes, and in so doing, subtly reclaims a place for German agency in the mythology of the Second World War.

It avoids triumphalism, but also largely avoids introspection. Unlike Canaris (1954), which at least gestures toward a moral engagement with internal German resistance, this film positions its protagonists within a framework of duty and success, regardless of broader ideological implications. It is, in that sense, a cold film - not emotionally, but politically. And yet, this detachment is not without its interest. In its restraint, in its refusal to either exalt or vilify, it becomes a document of the peculiar psychic terrain of 1950s West Germany, grappling not with the war, but with how to narrate participation in it without moral or historical collapse.

This film is not likely to move or thrill in the conventional sense, but it has a distinct value for the aficionado of WWII microhistory: it dramatizes, with aesthetic rigor and political opacity, the small, forgotten operations of the war machine, and in doing so, inadvertently reveals the larger postwar project of West German cultural amnesia - or perhaps more accurately, selective memory.