The Lives of Others | |
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Directed by | Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck |
Produced by | Max Wiedemann Quirin Berg |
Written by | Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck |
Starring | Ulrich Mühe Martina Gedeck Sebastian Koch Ulrich Tukur |
Cinematography | Hagen Bogdanski |
Editing by | Patricia Rommel |
Distributed by | Sony Pictures Classics (U.S.) Buena Vista International (German-speaking areas) Lions Gate Films (UK) |
Release date(s) | Germany March 23,2006 U.S. February 9, 2007 Australia March 29, 2007 UK April 11, 2007 |
Running time | 137 min. |
Country | Germany |
Language | German |
The Lives of Others (original German: Das Leben der Anderen) is a German drama film, marking the feature film debut of writer and director Florian Henckel von Donnersmarck.
With The Lives of Others, von Donnersmarck won the 2007 Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. The film had earlier won seven Deutscher Filmpreis awards – including best film, best director, best screenplay, best actor, and best supporting actor – after having set a new record with 11 nominations. It was nominated for Best Foreign Language Film at the 64th Golden Globe Awards.
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The thriller/drama involves the monitoring of the cultural scene of East Berlin by agents of the Stasi, the GDR's secret police. It stars Ulrich Mühe as Stasi Captain Gerd Wiesler, Ulrich Tukur as his chief Anton Grubitz, Sebastian Koch as the playwright Georg Dreyman, and Martina Gedeck as Dreyman's lover, a prominent actress named Christa-Maria Sieland.
The film was released in Germany on March 23, 2006. At the same time, the screenplay was published by Suhrkamp Verlag. Donnersmarck and Ulrich Mühe were successfully sued for libel for an interview in which Mühe asserted that his former wife informed on him while they were East German citizens[1] through the six years of their marriage.[2] In the film's publicity material, Donnersmarck says that Mühe's former wife denied the claims, although 254 pages' worth of government records detailed her activities.[3]
The organizers of the Berlin Film Festival refused to accept it as an official entry in 2006.[1] The film succeeded in Germany despite a widespread contemporary reluctance in the country, particularly in its films,[1] to confront the totalitarian excesses of the East German state.[2]
The Lives of Others cost US$2 million[1] and grossed more than $74 million worldwide as of November 2007.[4] Prior to his death, Sydney Pollack was said to be directing a possible Hollywood remake.[5]
In the East Germany (GDR) of 1984, Stasi Hauptmann (Captain) Gerd Wiesler (code name: HGW XX/7), a member of the Stasi apparatus and a true believer in the socialist regime, is shown interrogating a prisoner suspected of helping an acquaintance defect to the West. The scene of the interrogation is intercut with another in which Wiesler plays an audio recording of the interrogation while lecturing to a class on Stasi methods. One of the students in the class objects that the sleep deprivation used on the prisoner is "inhumane", but Wiesler replies that it is necessary (he also puts a little cross next to the student's name in his notes, presumably judging him to be potentially unreliable). He claims that an innocent man will become enraged at the injustice, while a guilty one will know he is there for a reason and will become quiet and perhaps cry. The prisoner is then shown weeping. Wiesler then points out the prisoner has given the same version of his story repeatedly in exactly the same words, which Wiesler claims is what tells the difference between lies and honesty; someone telling the truth could, and would, tell his story in different ways, whereas a liar has prepared sentences and rehearsed them - and falls back on them when under pressure. Eventually the prisoner provides a name.
Wiesler's old classmate, now his superior, Lt. Colonel Grubitz, assigns him to spy on playwright Georg Dreyman, who, Wiesler is told, is suspected of pro-Western sympathies. Stasi agents secretly enter Dreyman's apartment in order to install small microphones in the light switches and electric sockets. Wiesler and his assistant Udo then monitor activity in the apartment from the attic space above, typing a summary record of all events and conversations after each shift.
Wiesler soon finds out that the real reason Dreyman is being spied on is that a minister named Hempf, a member of the Party's Central Committee, is interested in Dreyman's girlfriend, actress Christa-Maria Sieland. If evidence is found to arrest Dreyman, the minister will have free rein. This discovery greatly damages Wiesler's motivation, as he realizes the minister is abusing his power primarily to be rid of a rival, and Dreyman is an easy target for security forces because of his association in intellectual circles.
Christa-Maria Sieland lives with Dreyman but secretly sees Hempf against her will (for instance, while walking back to Dreyman's apartment, he offers her a lift in his car and, during the trip, fondles her breasts and forces her to kiss him). Presumably, the actress relies on Hempf to get illegal drugs. Wiesler secretly intervenes so that Dreyman will discover the relationship between Christa-Maria and the party member. A week later, when she is about to go to another rendezvous with Hempf, Dreyman confronts her with knowledge of her liaisons. Christa-Maria defensively claims they are both in effect in bed with the regime, in order to be allowed to continue their careers as artists; Dreyman persists, saying she is a great artist who doesn't need to sell herself, but in the end she leaves. Wiesler then sees her at a bar, and - while pretending to be a fan - insinuates that her talent is great enough that she doesn't have to give herself to Hempf. Although at first it seems that Christa-Maria will carry out her rendezvous with Hempf, Wiesler later learns from his underling Udo that Christa-Maria instead returned to Dreyman after her encounter in the bar with him, although Udo is unaware of the implications of this information.
Dreyman is a supporter of the regime, or at least its principles, but he feels the way dissidents are treated is wrong. He quietly stands up for his friends if he feels that they have been unfairly treated. One friend, Jerska, is a director who has lost his reason to live after being blacklisted. At Dreyman's 40th birthday party, Jerska gives Dreyman a gift of sheet music to a piece titled "Sonata for A Good Man" (German: Sonate vom guten Menschen). Shortly afterward, Jerska commits suicide; this finally spurs Dreyman into speaking out publicly against the regime. Dreyman arranges through friends with West Germany's weekly magazine Der Spiegel to anonymously publish an article on suicide rates in the GDR. While the GDR publishes detailed statistics on many things, it has not published any information on suicide rates since the 1970s, presumably because they are embarrassingly high. Because all typewriters are registered, Dreyman uses a typewriter smuggled from the west with a red ribbon to write the article, which he hides under the floor in his apartment. Before Dreyman and his friends discuss sensitive issues in Dreyman's apartment they test whether it is bugged: they pretend that someone will be smuggled in a relative's car over to the West. Later they conclude that the apartment is not bugged, because the car is not searched. Unbeknown to the group, it was only Wiesler's compassion that prevented their plan from exposing their surveillance. Wiesler had called the border guards, but changed his mind and hung up without saying anything, telling himself, "Just this once, my friend."
Wiesler feels grief when not even a hired prostitute has time for him as she merely moves on to her next "appointment." He also starts to steal books off Dreyman's desk and reads them himself.
As Wiesler's empathy for the writer and his girlfriend has grown over time, he lies in his reports to protect Dreyman. Also, at his proposal, the hours of surveillance are reduced, so that it is no longer continuous and he no longer has to share the work with his more objective assistant. Eventually, Dreyman and his friends finish the article and it is published, upsetting the East German government.
Meanwhile, the minister, angered that Christa-Maria has chosen to no longer see him, orders Wiesler's superior, Anton Grubitz, to find some way to destroy her and tells him that she has been illegally buying prescription drugs. Grubitz and his men manage to catch her red-handed in the act of purchasing these drugs and she is arrested. Terrified, she informs on Dreyman, although she does not reveal the location of the typewriter. The house is searched for contraband by security officials, but they fail to find the typewriter hidden under the floorboards. Wiesler is called in to interrogate Christa-Maria. At this point, Grubitz begins to suspect Wiesler's newfound pity and implies that, even though they are longtime friends, a failure to perform his work will be very costly. Wiesler interrogates Christa-Maria (with his boss watching through the two-way mirror) with the same flawlessness and objectivity that characterized him for years. She breaks down and tells him where the typewriter is hidden. Wiesler, however, still determined to protect a couple he has come to care for, travels to their apartment in advance of the Stasi search team, somehow accesses Dreyman's apartment undetected, removes the typewriter from Dreyman's hiding place and hides it in his car.
During a second search, in the presence of Christa-Maria, when the hiding place of the typewriter is about to be opened, Christa-Maria leaves in shame and runs into the street and deliberately throws herself in front of a truck. The secret hiding place is opened, but is found empty as she does this. A helpless Wiesler, who is watching the events just outside the apartment, tries to tell Christa that he has the typewriter, but can't complete his words. Dreyman arrives at the scene and Christa-Maria dies in the weeping Dreyman's arms. As a result the surveillance operation becomes pointless: Wiesler's superior calls it off but, distrusting Wiesler, lives up to his words and demotes him. The newspaper lying in the front seat of Wiesler's car announces that Gorbachev is the new Party Secretary of the Soviet Union. Wiesler is demoted to Department M, to tediously steam-open letters all day with no chance for promotion until he retires. Four years and seven months later, Wiesler is in the middle of opening letters when a co-worker with a radio notifies him of the fall of the Berlin Wall. Upon hearing the news, Wiesler and his co-workers walk out on the job.
At the end of the film, after German reunification, Dreyman encounters the former minister at the playhouse and asks why his apartment was never bugged. The minister, now a successful businessman, ironically details the scope of Dreyman's extensive surveillance, telling him where to look for the equipment. Dreyman finds the wires and becomes perplexed why he was never caught. The Stasi's archives are now open to the public; he goes there and reads the massive pile of files the Stasi had of him, and learns the truth. While agent "HGW XX/7" (Hauptmann Gerd Wiesler 20/7) must have heard Dreyman and his friends conducting anti-regime activities (such as the writing of the suicide article), he did not report those things in his voluminous typed notes, and falsely wrote instead that Dreyman was writing a play on the 40th anniversary of the GDR, a topic the regime would have approved of. Next to the final page of notes is a smudge from the secret typewriter's red ink, proving that it was HGW who removed the typewriter. Dreyman now asks for the identity of "HGW XX/7" and is shown his name and photo. He takes a taxi and watches Wiesler for a few moments, working at his new job delivering newspapers.
Two years later, Dreyman publishes a novel "Sonata for A Good Man" (the name of the sonata given to him by Jerska shortly before Jerska's suicide). Wiesler sees the book advertised in a bookstore, and finds that it is dedicated "To HGW XX/7, with gratitude". He goes to buy the book and, when asked if he wants it gift wrapped, he responds quietly with a double entendre, "No; it's for me."
The review aggregator Rotten Tomatoes reported that 93% of critics gave the film positive reviews, based on 138 reviews.[7] On Metacritic, another review aggregator, the film received an average score of 89 out of 100, based on 39 reviews.[8] Based on 34,830 votes, The Lives of Others earned 8.6 out of 10 stars on IMDb, as well as 52nd place in its list of the top 250 films. The film also earned 4.2 / 5 stars out of 347,080 ratings on Netflix.com.
In a review, American neoconservative commentator John Podhoretz called the film "one of the greatest movies ever made, and certainly the best film of this decade."[9] William F. Buckley Jr., wrote in his syndicated column that, after the film was over, "I turned to my companion and said, 'I think that this is the best movie I ever saw."[10]
A review in Daily Variety by Derek Elley noted the "slightly stylized look" of the movie created by "playing up grays and dour greens, even when using actual locations like the Stasi's onetime HQ in Normannenstrasse."[11]
Time magazine's Richard Corliss named the film one of the Top 10 Movies of 2007, ranking it at #2. Corliss praised the film as a “poignant, unsettling thriller.”[12][13]
Film critic Roger Ebert gave the film his highest rating of four stars.[14]
Several critics pointed to the film's subtle building up of details as one of its prime strengths.
The film is built "on layers of emotional texture", wrote Stephanie Zacharek in Salon online magazine. "Von Donnersmarck seizes upon telling details: In one sequence, as Minister Hempf paws at a female conquest, we get a flash of his giant white underpants, a touch that would be funny if it weren't so subliminally horrific."[3]
At another point in the movie, the main character, Wiesler, becomes enchanted by and sympathetic to the couple he is listening in on. "Wiesler's response to those feelings [...] move in on him imperceptibly, with very little telegraphing, making them that much more convincing," Zacharek writes.[3] Podhoretz, reviewing the movie in The Weekly Standard, ascribes the subtleness of Wiesler's response to Mühe, the actor playing him: "That scene [...] is limned with extraordinary stillness and compressed emotion by Ulrich Mühe, an actor heretofore unknown outside Germany who gives a performance so perfect in this, and every other moment in the film, that it's almost beyond words."[15] Josh Rosenblatt, writing in the Austin Chronicle made the same point: "Like all great screen performances, Mühe’s magic comes out most in its tiniest moments: a raised eyebrow here, a slight upturn of the lips there. It’s a triumph of muted grandeur [...]"[16]
Lisa Schwarzbaum, writing in Entertainment Weekly pointed out that some of the subtlety in the movie comes from the audience watching as characters are shown not taking action so much as being confronted by the action around them: "Some of the movie's tensest moments take place with the most minimal of action — Wiesler simply listening through headphones, Dreyman simply lying on his bed, a neighbor simply looking through a door peephole, her whole life contingent on what she does about what she sees. In those nerve-racking pauses (handled by a strong, understated cast), von Donnersmarck conveys everything he wants us to know about choice, fear, doubt, cowardice, and heroism."[17]
An article[18] in First Things makes a more philosophical argument in defense of Wiesler's transformation.
A.O. Scott, reviewing the film in The New York Times, wrote that Lives is well-plotted, and added, "The suspense comes not only from the structure and pacing of the scenes, but also, more deeply, from the sense that even in an oppressive society, individuals are burdened with free will. You never know, from one moment to the next, what course any of the characters will choose."[19]
Los Angeles Times movie critic Kenneth Turan agreed that the dramatic tension of the film comes from being "meticulously plotted", and that " it places its key characters in high-stakes predicaments where what they are forced to wager is their talent, their very lives, even their souls." The movie "convincingly demonstrates that when done right, moral and political quandaries can be the most intensely dramatic dilemmas of all."[20]
Zacharek, Scott, Podhoretz and Turan all make the point that although the film gives a powerful, subtle depiction of the corruption at the core of the East German state, it is focused on how people can rise above the moral corruption in which they're sometimes placed. As Podhoretz puts it, the movie is "a character study in the guise of a stunning suspense thriller."[15]
The film appeared on many critics' top ten lists of the best films of 2007.[21]
Slavoj Zizek, reviewing the film for In These Times, wrote that it softpedals the oppressiveness of the German Democratic Republic, as when a dissident confronts the minister of culture and doesn't seem to face any consequences for it. Zizek also says the character of the playwright is simply too naive to be believable: "One cannot but recall here a witty formula of life under a hard Communist regime: Of the three features — personal honesty, sincere support of the regime and intelligence — it was possible to combine only two, never all three. [...] The problem with Dreyman is that he does combine all three features."[23]
Although the opening scene of the film is set in Hohenschönhausen prison, the movie could not be filmed there because Hubertus Knabe, the director of the memorial, refused to give von Donnersmarck permission. Knabe objected to "making the Stasi man into a hero" and tried to persuade von Donnersmarck to change the movie. Donnersmarck cited Schindler's List as an example of such a plot development being possible. Knabe's answer: "But that is exactly the difference. There was a Schindler. There was no Wiesler."[24] The East German dissident songwriter Wolf Biermann was guardedly enthusiastic about the film, writing in a March 2006 article in Die Welt: "The political tone is authentic, I was moved by the plot. But why? Perhaps I was just won over sentimentally, because of the seductive mass of details which look like they were lifted from my own past between the total ban of my work in 1965 and denaturalisation in 1976." [25]
Anna Funder, the author of a book about the Stasi (Stasiland), wrote in a review of the movie for The Guardian that it was not possible for a Stasi operative to have hidden much information from superiors because Stasi employees themselves were watched and operated in teams, seldom if ever working alone. She noted that in his "Director's statement", Donnersmarck wrote, "More than anything else, The Lives of Others is a human drama about the ability of human beings to do the right thing, no matter how far they have gone down the wrong path." Funder replied: "This is an uplifting thought. But what is more likely to save us from going down the wrong path again is recognising how human beings can be trained and forced into faceless systems of oppression, in which conscience is extinguished." Nevertheless, Funder said, the movie is a "superb film" despite not being true to reality.[24]
Clive Davis, writing in his blog at The Spectator magazine's Web site, said the film did not convincingly show how Wiesler would have decided to change his ways: "What we saw was a promising idea sabotaged by a muddled and undernourished script."[26] "There was simply no serious motivation provided for this transformation. It was almost as if the writer figured he didn't really need to bother."[27]
Donnersmarck's parents were both from East Germany. He has said that, on visits there as a child before the Berlin Wall fell, he could sense the fear they had as subjects of the state.[28]
He said the idea for the movie came to him when he was trying to come up with a movie scenario for a film class. As he listened to a piece of music, he recalled Maxim Gorky's anecdote about Lenin listening to Beethoven's Appassionata.[1] Gorky wrote:
I know of nothing better than the Appassionata and could listen to it every day. What astonishing, superhuman music! It always makes me proud, perhaps naively so, to think that people can work such miracles!" Wrinkling up his eyes, Lenin smiled rather sadly, adding: "But I can't listen to music very often. It affects my nerves. I want to say sweet, silly things and pat the heads of people who, living in a filthy hell, can create such beauty. One can't pat anyone on the head nowadays, they might bite your hand off. They ought to be beaten on the head, beaten mercilessly, although ideally we are against doing any violence to people. Hm—– what a hellishly difficult job![15]
Donnersmarck told a New York Times reporter: "I suddenly had this image in my mind of a person sitting in a depressing room with earphones on his head and listening in to what he supposes is the enemy of the state and the enemy of his ideas, and what he is really hearing is beautiful music that touches him. I sat down and in a couple of hours had written the treatment."
Donnersmarck had difficulty getting financing for the $2 million film. Podhoretz speculated that the reason was a reluctance on the part of the film industry to confront the horrors of Communism, although he says it is rich with dramatic possibilities. That may also explain why the organizers of the Berlin Film Festival refused to accept it as an official entry for 2006, the critic wrote.[15]
Awards | ||
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Preceded by Tsotsi ![]() |
Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film 2007 |
Succeeded by The Counterfeiters (Die Fälscher) ![]() |
Preceded by Pan's Labyrinth (El laberinto del fauno) ![]() |
BAFTA Award for Best Film Not in the English Language 2007 |
Succeeded by TBD |