The Lives of Others

One of the surprises from the recent Academy Awards was that the German film, The Lives of Others, won the Best Foreign Language Film over Pan's Labyrinth, the Mexican film. Pan won three other Oscars, but got aced out by Lives. However, those who had seen the film were not surprised, which reminds us that the voting in that category is limited to those who see all five nominees in a theater and pre-arranged screenings. I caught up with Lives on Sunday, and while I may not have voted for it over Pan, it is a worthy victor.

As to why it won, I can only surmise that The Lives of Others tells just as terrifying a story as Pan does, but without any fanciful fairy-tale imagery, which might have turned off the older, more conservative voters who usually dominate this category. The German film, written and directed by Florian Henckel von Donnersmark (research project for the future--longest name of any Oscar winner?) is similar to Pan in that deals with the horrors of a totalitarian state, but the evils in this film are all human.

The film tells the story of a member of East Germany's secret police, the Stasi, in the early eighties in Berlin. Wiesler is a man who is totally dedicated to his job, which is to capture the enemies of the state, which in East Germany's case was anyone who uttered a peep of dissent. He seems to be so dedicated to his work that he has no family and no other interests, a faceless bureaucrat who has no problem with imprisoning people for minor offenses. One night his boss, the minister of culture, takes him to the theater for the premiere of a play by a popular playwright, played by Sebastian Koch. The playwright is one of the few in the country who is not seen as disloyal, and actually believes in his country. Wiesler gets suspicious, though, and volunteers to monitor Koch and his girlfriend, his lead actress, played by Martina Gedeck.

As Wiesler listens to every conversation that takes place in their apartment, he becomes drawn into their lives, and the film in some ways parallels Coppola's The Conversation. Wiesler undergoes a change, and a cat and mouse game ensues between him, the artists that Koch runs with, and Wiesler's higher ups. I don't want to go any further than that, because this is the kind of film which is difficult to see what is coming next.

Von Donnersmark has written an excellent script and directed to fully maximize the justifiable paranoia of the time period (with the current administration in the U.S., you might leave this film and go home and check to see if there are any microphones behind your light switches). I think the largest kudos are due to Ulrich Muhe as Wiesler, the kind of man who blends into any crowd, which makes him all the more terrifying here. Watching this character grow over the course of the film is quite rewarding.