Saturday, 2 March 2019

Wings of Desire (1987)

Wings of Desire is nothing short of life-affirming. There is something raw and deeply emotional in the way it recognises and values the most basic aspects of everyday life. The film overcomes many of the distractions and concerns of superficial adult life and returns to the initial, essential questions of a child coming to terms with the world.

“When the child was a child it was the time of these questions: Why am I me and why not you? Why am I here and why not there? When did time begin and where does space end? Isn’t life under the sun just a dream?”

As with many great stories, the film dramatises different realms or levels of existence. The film is about angels, specifically Damiel (Bruno Ganz) and Cassiel (Otto Sander), who are watching over Berlin, often in a caring capacity. The angels occupy another realm, which is communicated to us by slowly gliding camerawork (courtesy of cinematographer Henri Alekan), aerial shots of Berlin, an orchestral soundtrack (by Jürgen Knieper) and black and white imagery.

Damiel faces a dilemma. He is an angel but wishes, as we find out early in the film, to “enter the history of the world”, to live and be finite, to sense and love and feel pain. We learn that as angels they live eternally. They can observe every facet of the world and are all-knowing, but are disconnected from the limited, sensual and profane world of manifested life.

In an early scene, the angels Damiel and Cassiel are in a stationary car, calmly recounting their observations of Berlin, as though they had done this many times before.

Cassiel:

“Today, on the Lilienthaler Chaussee, a man walks slowly, and looks over his shoulder into space. At post office 44, someone who wants to put an end it to it today has stuck collectors stamps on his farewell letters, a different one on each, then he spoke English with an American soldier, for the first time since his school days, fluently. In the hills, an old man was reading The Odyssey to a child, and the young listener stopped blinking his eyes.

And what do you have to tell?

Damiel:

“A passer-by, in the rain, folded her umbrella, and was drenched. A school boy described to his teacher how a fern grows out of the earth, and astounded the teacher. A blind woman who groped for her watch, feeling my presence”

During the next lines of this scene we learn of Damiel’s dilemma, as he states:

“Sometimes I’m fed up with my spiritual existence. Instead of hovering above, I’d like to feel a weight grow in me, to end the infinity and tie me to earth. I’d like, at each step, each gust of wind, to be able to say “now”, and no longer “forever” and “eternity”.

No, I don’t have to beget a child or plant a tree. But it would be rather nice, coming home after a long day, to feed the cat, to have a fever, to be excited not only by the mind, but, at last, by a meal, by the line of a neck, by an ear. To lie, through one’s teeth! As you’re walking, to feel your bones moving along. To guess, instead of always knowing. Or at last to feel how it is to take your shoes off under a table, to wriggle your toes barefoot”

The realm of manifested life is characterised, prominently, by desire. Desire arguably shapes most of what humans do and think. The desire to love and to be loved. The desire for carnal pleasures. In most Buddhist thought, desire creates suffering and life is defined as suffering. Thus desire is viewed negatively and something to avoid. But desire, for me, is not something to avoid, but something to be apprehended accurately. Desire is multi-faceted and beautiful; pain, love, happiness, longing, connection, suffering. I think this point is expressed in the film too.

Essential to Wings of Desire is romantic love. Part of Damiel’s wish to enter history is his longing for a woman, a trapeze artist named Marion. This longing is expressed in the film, structurally, by the transition from black and white to colour. Black and white represents the eternal angelic realm. When we find Damiel observing Marion, there are moments where the film shifts to colour. The full shift to colour occurs when Damiel emerges into the world of life.

Marion, like Damiel, is also longing. When she finds Damiel in a dream she knows that she belongs with him. Her need for him and his need for her helps the film define human life, which is based on desire (or need) and connection. Marion says to Damiel “You need me. You will need me”.

Marion’s words to Damiel near the end of the film are very telling:

“At last it’s becoming serious. We are now the times. Not only the whole town, but the whole world is taking part in our decision. We are now more than us two. We incarnate something. We’re representing the people now. And the whole place is full of those people dreaming the same dream. I am ready”

After longing and thinking, Marion is ready to take her decision, to be serious, to embrace life. In doing so, she incarnates the world and its capacity to create. Her's and Damiel’s union encapsulates all unions; they are embodying and expressing every act of love, “We are now more than us two”.

A lot more could be said about Wings of Desire, in terms of its historical references, use of music and its connections with other films and styles. Maybe another time!

“Why am I me and why not you? Why am I here and why not there? When did time begin and where does space end? Isn’t life under the sun just a dream?”

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