Angels exist, and they're sad German men with ponytails. Not so much a story as a silent era "city symphony", Wings of Desire grapples with German history from Caligari to Hitler to beyond, and often times the only thing that saves it from annoyingly inert philosophizing is the beauty of Wenders asking "what would Murnau do?" The final coup: a use of color that that makes a worn-down Berlin alive with enchantment.
http://bit.ly/2oZHfgv: A Misstep in Film History: Wim Wenders Wings of Desire and Its Masterpiece Status What this film does best is gesture at something spiritually significant which the viewer inherently understands and thus conjures on their own. And for this reason its viewing will be remembered with pleasure in spite of its failures. 72/100 – Good.
Looking through a live that you could be living while no one notices you and your loneliness, can be pretty hard and painful. Specially if you are always questioning your purpose in the world. Bruno Ganz does it so accurately that you can't avoid thinking about yourself. Philosophically and melancholically well done, Win Wenders.
When you get bored of eternity, there's always love. "I love love. I love having a lover and being one. The insularity of passion. I love it. I love the way it blurs the distinction between everyone who isn’t one’s lover. Only two kinds of presence in the world. There’s you and there’s them." -- The Real Thing.
Seen in 35 mm the first time, at the premiere in the extinct movie theater Quarteto, rewatched now in digital, re-rating. Handke's text and lyricism, underlined by Wender's camera, is what less interest me now, being History and the present, consolidated by the wall's division, what is most compelling. Like the old man looking for traces of Potsdamer Platz, the film also collects the signs of an eroded city.