Day 137: The Lives of Others

"The best way to establish guilt or innocence is non-stop interrogation."

One of my favorite pieces of pop art inspired by Pink Floyd is the image of a brick wall that’s completely covered in graffiti. Amongst the layered spray paint is a simple question that always made me wonder. Said question is: “Mother, should I trust the government?” This particular question carried significant weight prior to the fall of the Berlin Wall, where it wasn’t uncommon for the German Democratic Republic (East Germany) to investigate and vehemently follow the lives of their citizens in an attempt to assert control. Through mentally exhausting interrogation and the bugging of one’s home, the GDR were willing and able to follow those who they suspected were critical of their state, or looking to aide and embed a citizen across the border into West Germany. Rekindling the type of regime that existed in post-WWII Germany is Florian Henckel Donnersmarck’s amazing The Lives of Others.

The Lives of Others is one of those films that finds its momentum not on powerful scenes of action, but on scenes built of subtlety. The cast, featuring relative unknowns on a global level, meticulously forge their characters with identities that come forth in the most minute of ways. Certainly there are scenes based around stirring centerpieces, but more often than not, Donnersmarck’s execution is restrained and deliberate while his actors give their respective characters an unexpected depth. We know what each character wants. We know what is expected from them, and we ultimately know what each character stands to gain and lose. Everything feels very tangible, especially when you rope in the notion that some of the characters are being watched even in their most intimate of moments (sex in particular). Much like how the planets revolve around the sun, The Lives of Others and its inhabitants revolve around the performance of Ulrich Muhe. Featuring  a small, impish frame, there is physically nothing imposing about Muhe’s performance as Gerd Wiessler, a spy for East Germany.

Yet, with his interrogation skills and overall ability in breaking down backsliders, Muhe makes his character a beguiling one who’s constantly one step ahead of his target. Seen as the GDR’s most loyal dog, Wiessler is asked to infiltrate and entrap a playwright by the name of Georg Dreyman (Sebastian Koch), a potential West German sympathizer. Considering there is often collateral damage in such a mission, Dreyman’s live-in girlfriend, actress Christa-Maria Sieland (Martina Gedeck), has her right to privacy inhibited along with her lover. Taking up refuge in the bowels of Dreyman and Sieland’s living quarters, Wiessler follows their every move. Through the placement of microphones and well executed stalks, Wiessler listens in with no suspicions about his whereabouts. He sits patiently in the name of his country, like a dog waiting for his  bone. No traitorous acts are discovered, but what Wiessler does discover is that his life, when compared to the chemistry and passion found between Dreyman and Sieland, is utterly pathetic. He sacrifices his own life and the privacies of others as a means to appease a government that often abuses their power for selfish gains.

Knowing his government has failed him, Wiessler goes rogue and begins to protect Dreyman and Sieland from falling into the clutches of the GDR. This change of heart on the part of Wiessler doesn’t consist of one “aha!” moment. Instead, Muhe’s masterful performance and Donnersmarck’s screenplay slowly mold Wiessler’s dissension with his leadership. It’s in this disillusionment where the film’s drama begins to reach a heightened state. In the case of all of the characters, they’re looking to maintain their true feelings about their state of oppression while trying to magnify a false sense of patriotism to gain a sense of security. As you can imagine, balancing a traitorous view with patriotism often finds our characters in moments where they have to wear both masks interchangeably. From this we have drama resulting from the invasiveness of a government that swiftly changes to a human drama about decency. Wiessler wants to work in the direction of his government’s best interest, but he can’t trump a person’s inherent right to privacy and freedom. All of this leads to a shocking final 20 minutes where all of our characters have their moments of redemption enveloped with tragedy. With the ending in mind, I ask, can we trust the government? Your guess is as good as mine, but if The Lives of Others has anything to say, it’s that an individual is more likely to do the right thing than a political entity.