Cerul deasupra Berlinului, (1987) | O poveste despre împărțirea Berlinului și consecințele Holocaustului, dar, mai presus de toate, o istorisire în imagini despre frumusețea ireductibilă a vieții. O cronică de Loredana Negrilă

Zâmbim si plecăm mai departe, fiecare pe drumul său. Uneori, parcurgem împreună o bună bucată de drum, lăsându-ne transformaţi unul de celălalt. Nu am aflat nici până acum, la 32 de ani, cum e mai bine. De cele mai multe ori avem de făcut alegeri, suprapuse sau nu peste un alt şir de alegeri făcute de cele care au fost înainte de a porni la drum. De-a lungul timpului, mi s-a demonstrat că indiferent dacă spun “da”, “nu” sau “poate”, “hai”, “stai, rămai” ori “du-te”, “lasă-mă”, viața se va rostogoli la vale în acelaşi mod. Am remarcat, de curând, cum ii afectează pe clasicii modernității trecerea timpului, odată cu revederea unui film drag, “Cerul deasupra Berlinului”.

19 Decembrie 2020, 15:21 (actualizat 27 Septembrie 2021, 14:49) |
Ceul deasupra Berlinului
Ceul deasupra Berlinului
Cerul deasupra Berlinului

De fapt, l-am vizionat pentru a nu ştiu câta oară. Având ca protagonist un înger care se hotărăşte să devină muritor, filmul te acaparează prin imaginile în alb şi negru, dar mai ales prin textul inspirat al lui Peter Handke, care a scris scenariul împreună cu bunul său prieten, Wim Wenders.

Mi-a făcut bine să ascult încă o dată motivele îngerului pentru a renunța la eternitate: “La fiecare pas, la fiecare pală de vânt, mi-ar plăcea să pot striga în gura mare: acum, acum, acum! Şi să nu mai spun “dintotdeauna” sau “veşnic”. Să mă aşez pe locul liber la o partidă de cărți … Să mă salute lumea fie şi cu o uşoară mişcare din cap ... Să mă entuziasmez nu doar de lucrurile spirituale, ci şi de mâncare, de conturul unei cefe, de o ureche. Să mint. Ca un hoț. Să simt că scheletul se mişcă odată cu mine." "Der Himmel über Berlin”- „Cerul deasupra Berlinului”, o sublimă fantezie a lui Wim Wenders despre frumusețea ireductibilă a vieții spune povestea unor îngeri: Damiel şi Cassiel, doi arhivari ai istoriei sufletești care iau pulsul unui oraş dezolant de la 1987. Mesagerii divinităţii sunt vizibili doar pentru copii şi pentru cei cu deficiențe de vedere. Ei observă, analizează şi ascultă gândurile laicilor: o femeie gravidă, un pictor zbucimat de spulberarea inspiraţiei, un bărbat trist, mereu neiubit. Menirea lor, de năluci descinse din Rai este să asambleze şi să conserve sufletele umane, să dea mărturie despre reveriile oamenilor. Berlinul apare ca un loc uitat de vreme, fiind totodată spațiul în care micile momente, gândurile fugitive contează cel mai mult, căci Damiel poate asculta spaimele unui om care se confruntă cu propria moarte. Îngerul inspiră, aşadar, puterea lui "acum", în loc de "pentru totdeauna."

(w220) Cerul deas

În toată această epopee vizuală atârnă o întrebare: nu cumva e mai bine să fii muritor, dar să participi, decât să fii un observator al procesului numit viață și să nu participi? Dorința de a reuși, de a acționa, de a demonstra, de a găsi, de a iubi, de a ne schimba este indisolubil legată de simplul fapt că noi, oamenii, avem un deadline. Îngerii nu-l au.

Fără îndoială, filmul lui Wim Wenders este mai mult decât ceea ce vedem la suprafață. Sau ce ne lasă el să vedem. Într-un sens anume, artistul (cineastul, scriitorul) observă doar, nu participă.

Finețea succesiunii cadrelor este acaparatoare. De gustul țigării cu cafea se minunează îngerul. De culori. De frecatul palmelor atunci când afară e frig. Şi chiar de frig.

În dialogul cu îngerul Casiel, Damiel, săturat de spiritualitate, tânjeşte după viaţa trupului: „E minunat să trăieşti doar cu spiritul, să depui mărturie pentru eternitate… Doar pentru ce e spiritual în mintea oamenilor. Dar câteodată mă cam satur de existenţa mea spirituală… sau să plutesc deasupra, încontinuu. Aş vrea să simt o greutate care mă apasă… să se termine Infinitul şi să mă leg de Pământ“.

Să guşti din toate vârstele Pământului și totuşi, să treacă pe lângă tine ciclul vieții fără să-ți pierzi curiozitatea, inocența, jovialitatea. Un „blestem” pe care Damiel, deşi nu-l înțelege, este obligat să-l poarte ca pe o povară, până la scurgerea timpului. Şi până la urmă, aceasta extradimensiune oferită a fost un privilegiu suficient. El se întreabă, asemenea vocii lui Kundera: „este, într-adevăr, greutatea cumplită şi uşurătatea frumoasă? Rămâne chinuitoare contradicția care-l macină pe povestitorul lui Wenders, un fel de Homer interpretat de minunatul actor Curt Bois (în film există aluzii la Odiseea), prezent în persoana unui scriitor bătrîn care a cunoscut Berlinul în timpul războiului.

Prin urmare, ce să alegem? Greutatea sau uşurătatea? Cu siguranță, răspunsul e diferit pentru fiecare dintre noi. Totuşi, un aspect e bine conturat: antiteza greu-uşor este cea mai misterioasă şi mai plină de semnificaţii dintre toate contradicţiile.

Scenariul pune în lumină, fără menajamente, cum zborul este o povară, iar paşii noştri, cei de toate zilele, demni de invidie. Îngerul se îndrăgosteşte de o ființă pământeană şi tânjeşte să cadă, înapoi, în nimicnicie. Pe Pământ. Doar că să poate fi împreună cu cea iubită. Însă el nu urmăreşte doar iubirea, aşa cum am menționat mai devreme. Țintuirea de Pământ aduce acele beneficii savuroase, inexistente în Cer, care pun în valoare emoțiile umane în toată complexitatea lor imperfectă. Și pentru că tot acest amestec de simțuri și gânduri nu i se pare suficient, Wenders ne oferă neașteptatul: nașterea dorinței de a trăi și transformarea din spectator în participant activ. Binecuvântarea sufletelor chinuite se rezumă la îmbrățișarea unui înger și implicit, la sentimentul apartenenței. De aceea privitorul renunță să mai privească mut, stimulat de o dorință ancestrală: femeia. În final, din iubire, pentru iubire, putem trăi cu adevărat și frumos. Confirmarea este dată de Marion, iubirea platonică a lui Damiel, la sfîrşitul filmului, când i se mărturiseşte: „Eu şi cu tine suntem Timpul însuşi. Nu numai oraşul, ci lumea întreagă ia parte la decizia noastră de a fi împreună. Nu suntem doar noi doi. Întruchipăm ceva măreţ."

Latura artistico-vizuală este sacadată în secvențe întregi alb-negru și scene color, fiecare dintre acestea sugerând câte o idee. Pentru îngeri, lumea este în alb-negru, lipsită de simțiri și trăiri, însă pentru oameni ea plonjează într-un amestec efervescent de culoare care te face să pierzi esența. Aşa e şi viața: vedem culorile dar nu le simțim în profunzime, iar percepția fiecăruia dintre noi le transformă în nuanțe de gri. Pierdem frumosul din fiecare unghi al existenței, ratând adevăratele lui palete cromatice. Ori de câte ori filmul ajunge la o scenă fără prezența îngerului, imaginea devine un splash de culoare. Wenders a delimitat astfel, cu măiestrie, diferența dintre lumesc şi divin. Cei nevăzuţi, dar simțiți de către copii şi orbi au o experiență străveche și esențializată pentru care imaginea în alb-negru pare adecvată.

Cu acest film pe care-l voi revedea în mod cert, curând, Wim Wenders a primit 18 premii, dintre care unul pentru cel mai bun regizor în cadrul Festivalului de la Cannes din 1987. Pelicula a avut parte și de alte 10 nominalizări, printre care una la premiile BAFTA.

În genericul de final există o mențiune emoționantă potrivit căreia filmul este dedicat foștilor îngeri Yasujiro, François și Andrej, aceștia fiind nimeni alții decât: Yasujiro Ozu, François Truffaut, Andrej Tarkovsky. În special, influența ultimului “înger”, Tarkovsky, o putem intui la nivelul imaginii: cadre lungi cu mişcări lente, dar mai ales alternanța simbolică alb-negru cu cea color pe care o regăsim şi în Călăuza. “Responsabil” de ireproşabilitatea imaginii este Henri Alekan care de-a lungul carierei sale s-a ocupat de prelucrarea mai multor capodopere cinematografice.

Cu Wim sau fără el, două întrebări existențiale și-au găsit locul:

Să observi la nesfârșit sau să arzi într-o clipită?

Cât de departe trebuie să mergi pentru a te găsi şi ulterior, pentru a te regăsi?

Eu, pentru mine, am un răspuns. Ştiu că există un soi de coming again sau … restoration al unui Cer regăsit, nu doar “deasupra Berlinului”. Ca o plimbare în întuneric prin conştiință. Şi senzația aproape fizică a unui flash luminos. Acolo vom fi noi, mai puțin îngeri, în relație cu propriul copil interior. Cu iubire şi ostilitate, cu acceptare, respingere şi iar acceptare. Fără contradicții în alb şi negru. Ne vom fi regăsit şi împăcat, închegându-ne autonomia şi păstrându-ne intimitatea. Unde începe Cerul.

_______________________________________________________________________________

Wings of desire

 

We smile and move on, each with our own path to walk on. Sometimes, we go discover a part of this path together, letting ourselves be transformed by each other. I have not discovered, up until now at 32 years of age, which way is better. Most of the times we have choices to make, which may overlap or not, with a series of choices made by those decisions that were created before we embarked on this road. As time goes by, it has been proven to me that if I say “yes”, “no” or “maybe’, “come on”, “stay”, or “go” life gallops away at the same pace. Recently, I have noticed how the passage of time dawned upon the classics of modernity by watching a very dear movie to me, “Wings of Desire”.
Actually, I cannot count how many times I saw it. The main character is an angel who decides to become a mere mortal, the movie grabs your attention by using a black and white film, to which you add the wonderful lines that were written by Peter Handke, who co-authored the script together with his good friend, Wim Wenders. It gave me great pleasure in hearing, once again, the reasons for which the angel gave up on eternity:      “With each step, for each gust of wind, I would like to be able to shout out loud: now, now, now! And to no longer say “eternal” or “forever”. To seat on the empty spot for a game of cards…To have people say hi even if it is just a nod…The get enthused not just by spiritual matters, but also by food, by the contour of an ear or a neck. To lie. Like a thief. To feel my bones as they move at the same time I do.”
"Der Himmel über Berlin”- Wings of Desire is a sublime fantasy about the irreducible beauty of life that tells the story of two angels: Damiel and Cassiel, two archivists of the History of the Soul who take the pulse of a desolate city from 1987. The messengers of divinity are visible only to children on those that are visually impaired. They observe, analyze and listen to the thoughts of faithful worshipers: a pregnant woman, a painter flabbergasted by the disappearance of his inspiration, a sad man who is always unloved. Their purpose, as ghosts descending from Heaven is to assemble and preserve human souls, to give testimony to man’s dreams.
Berlin looks like a forgotten place, being at the same time the space in which the small moments, where runaway thoughts matter the most, because Damiel can listen to the fears of a man who is confronting his own death. The angel, therefore, is inspiring us to the power of “now”, instead of “forever”. In all of this visual odyssey a lingering question appears to arise: isn’t it perhaps better to be a mortal, but to participate, then to be an observer of the process called life and not participate? The desire to succeed, to act, to demonstrate, to find, to love, to change is inextricably connected to the simple fact that we, humans, have a deadline. Angels do not have that. Without a doubt, Wim Wenders’s movie is more then what meets the eye or appears to be on the surface. Or what he lets us see. In a certain sense, the artist ( director, writer ) does not participate, he only observe. The finesse and ease with which each shot follows the next grabs your attention and keeps it there. With the taste of the cigarette and coffee that bewilders the angel, also by the colors around. Rubbing your hands because it is cold outside and by the coldness itself.
In a dialogue with the angel Cassiel, Damiel, bored by spirituality, yearns after a physical life: “It is wonderful to live in spirit alone, to bear testimony for eternity…Only for what is spiritual in the mind of men. But sometimes I get tired of my own spiritual existence… or just floating by, all the time. I wish I could feel a weight bearing down my shoulders… For Infinity to end so that I can tie myself to the Earth”.
To taste from all of Earth’s ages and yet, to let the cycle of life pass by you without losing your sense of curiosity, youthfulness and innocence. A “curse” which Damiel, even though he does not fully understand, is forced to carry it like a burden until the end of time. And in the end, this extra-dimension that he has been offered was a sufficient privilege. He asks himself, just like the voice of Kundera: “ is it, really, the burden that is horrible and the easiness that is beautiful?” The contradiction that grinds down Wenders’s storyteller is quite excruciating, sort of a Homer interpreted by the wonderful actor Curt Bois (the movie is hinting in some points to the Odyssey), present here in the personification of an old writer that has known Berlin during the war. Therefore, what do we choose? The burden or the easiness? For sure, the answer is different for each and everyone of us. However, a clear-cut point arises: the antithesis between hard-easy is the most mysterious and full of significance contradictions of all that exist.
The script brings to light, without holding back, how flying is a burden, and our everyday steps are worthy of envy. The angel falls in love with an earthly being and yearns to fall, back, into nothingness. On Earth. Just be together with the one he loves. But, as I have previously mentioned, he does not only pursue the feeling of love. Being earth-bound brings those savory benefits that do not exist high up-above, which bring value to human emotion in all of its imperfect complexity. And because all of this mixture of senses and thought seems insufficient to him, Wenders offers us the unexpected: the birth of the desire to live and transforming from a spectator into an active participant. The blessing of tormented souls comes down to an embrace of an angel and implicitly, to the feeling of belonging. That is why the watcher gives up on watching silently, stimulated by an ancestral desire: the woman. In the end, out of love, for love, we can live in beauty and truthfulness. The confirmation is given by Marion, the platonic love of Damiel, at the end of the movie, when she confesses to him: “You and I are Time itself. Not only the city, but the whole world takes part in our decision to be together. It is not just the two of us, We are the embodiment of something great.”
The visual-artistic side is abruptly evident in whole black and white sequences and colored scenes, each of these suggesting a particular idea, For the angels, the world is in black and white, devoid of senses and experiences, but for the humans it lunges into an effervescent mixture of color that makes you lose the essence. That’s how life is: we see colors but we do not feel them in depth, and the perception that we all carry transforms them in shades of gray. We lose the beauty in each angle of existence, missing out on its true chromatic abundance of colors. Every single time the movie gets to a scene without the presence of the angel, the image becomes a splash of colors. Thus Wenders has clearly, and skillfully, delimitated the difference between worldly and divine. Those that are unseen, but felt by children and blind men have an ancient and essential experience for which the black and white picture seems adequate.
With this movie that I will see once again, soon, Wim Wenders received 18 awards, amongst which one for best director during the Cannes Festival from 1987. The picture received another 10 nominations, including one for the BAFTA awards. During the ending credits of the movie , there is an emotional account, according to which the movie is dedicated to the former angels Yasujiro, François and Andrej, them being none other than: Yasujiro Ozu, François Truffaut, Andrej Tarkovsky. Especially the influence of the last “angel”, Tarkovsky, we can hint at it from the level of imagery: long shots with slow movements, but especially in the symbolic alternation of black-white scenes with the colored ones that we can find in Stalker. “The culprit” in building this image without reproach is Henri Alekan who, during his long career, took over the film editing of several cinematographic masterpieces.
With Wim or without him, two existential questions arise:
To endlessly observe or burn in a moment?
How far must you go to discover yourself and later on, to rediscover yourself?
I, for myself, have an answer. I know that there is a sort of a coming again or  …  a restoration of a rediscovered Heaven, not just “over Berlin”. Like taking a walk in darkness through consciousness. And the, almost physical, sensation of a light flash, There we will be, lesser angels in relation with our inner-child. With love and hostility, with acceptance, rejection and again acceptance. Without any contradictions in black and white. We will have found and embraced ourselves, forming our autonomy and keeping our intimacy. Where the sky begins.

We smile and move on, each with our own path to walk on. Sometimes, we go discover a part of this path together, letting ourselves be transformed by each other. I have not discovered, up until now at 32 years of age, which way is better. Most of the times we have choices to make, which may overlap or not, with a series of choices made by those decisions that were created before we embarked on this road. As time goes by, it has been proven to me that if I say “yes”, “no” or “maybe’, “come on”, “stay”, or “go” life gallops away at the same pace. Recently, I have noticed how the passage of time dawned upon the classics of modernity by watching a very dear movie to me, “Wings of Desire”.

Actually, I cannot count how many times I saw it. The main character is an angel who decides to become a mere mortal, the movie grabs your attention by using a black and white film, to which you add the wonderful lines that were written by Peter Handke, who co-authored the script together with his good friend, Wim Wenders. It gave me great pleasure in hearing, once again, the reasons for which the angel gave up on eternity:      “With each step, for each gust of wind, I would like to be able to shout out loud: now, now, now! And to no longer say “eternal” or “forever”. To seat on the empty spot for a game of cards…To have people say hi even if it is just a nod…The get enthused not just by spiritual matters, but also by food, by the contour of an ear or a neck. To lie. Like a thief. To feel my bones as they move at the same time I do.” "Der Himmel über Berlin”- Wings of Desire is a sublime fantasy about the irreducible beauty of life that tells the story of two angels: Damiel and Cassiel, two archivists of the History of the Soul who take the pulse of a desolate city from 1987. The messengers of divinity are visible only to children on those that are visually impaired. They observe, analyze and listen to the thoughts of faithful worshipers: a pregnant woman, a painter flabbergasted by the disappearance of his inspiration, a sad man who is always unloved. Their purpose, as ghosts descending from Heaven is to assemble and preserve human souls, to give testimony to man’s dreams.  Berlin looks like a forgotten place, being at the same time the space in which the small moments, where runaway thoughts matter the most, because Damiel can listen to the fears of a man who is confronting his own death. The angel, therefore, is inspiring us to the power of “now”, instead of “forever”.

In all of this visual odyssey a lingering question appears to arise: isn’t it perhaps better to be a mortal, but to participate, then to be an observer of the process called life and not participate? The desire to succeed, to act, to demonstrate, to find, to love, to change is inextricably connected to the simple fact that we, humans, have a deadline. Angels do not have that. Without a doubt, Wim Wenders’s movie is more then what meets the eye or appears to be on the surface. Or what he lets us see. In a certain sense, the artist ( director, writer ) does not participate, he only observe. The finesse and ease with which each shot follows the next grabs your attention and keeps it there. With the taste of the cigarette and coffee that bewilders the angel, also by the colors around. Rubbing your hands because it is cold outside and by the coldness itself. In a dialogue with the angel Cassiel, Damiel, bored by spirituality, yearns after a physical life: “It is wonderful to live in spirit alone, to bear testimony for eternity…Only for what is spiritual in the mind of men. But sometimes I get tired of my own spiritual existence… or just floating by, all the time. I wish I could feel a weight bearing down my shoulders… For Infinity to end so that I can tie myself to the Earth”. To taste from all of Earth’s ages and yet, to let the cycle of life pass by you without losing your sense of curiosity, youthfulness and innocence. A “curse” which Damiel, even though he does not fully understand, is forced to carry it like a burden until the end of time. And in the end, this extra-dimension that he has been offered was a sufficient privilege. He asks himself, just like the voice of Kundera: “ is it, really, the burden that is horrible and the easiness that is beautiful?” The contradiction that grinds down Wenders’s storyteller is quite excruciating, sort of a Homer interpreted by the wonderful actor Curt Bois (the movie is hinting in some points to the Odyssey), present here in the personification of an old writer that has known Berlin during the war. Therefore, what do we choose? The burden or the easiness? For sure, the answer is different for each and everyone of us. However, a clear-cut point arises: the antithesis between hard-easy is the most mysterious and full of significance contradictions of all that exist. The script brings to light, without holding back, how flying is a burden, and our everyday steps are worthy of envy. The angel falls in love with an earthly being and yearns to fall, back, into nothingness. On Earth. Just be together with the one he loves. But, as I have previously mentioned, he does not only pursue the feeling of love. Being earth-bound brings those savory benefits that do not exist high up-above, which bring value to human emotion in all of its imperfect complexity. And because all of this mixture of senses and thought seems insufficient to him, Wenders offers us the unexpected: the birth of the desire to live and transforming from a spectator into an active participant. The blessing of tormented souls comes down to an embrace of an angel and implicitly, to the feeling of belonging. That is why the watcher gives up on watching silently, stimulated by an ancestral desire: the woman. In the end, out of love, for love, we can live in beauty and truthfulness. The confirmation is given by Marion, the platonic love of Damiel, at the end of the movie, when she confesses to him: “You and I are Time itself. Not only the city, but the whole world takes part in our decision to be together. It is not just the two of us, We are the embodiment of something great.” The visual-artistic side is abruptly evident in whole black and white sequences and colored scenes, each of these suggesting a particular idea, For the angels, the world is in black and white, devoid of senses and experiences, but for the humans it lunges into an effervescent mixture of color that makes you lose the essence. That’s how life is: we see colors but we do not feel them in depth, and the perception that we all carry transforms them in shades of gray. We lose the beauty in each angle of existence, missing out on its true chromatic abundance of colors. Every single time the movie gets to a scene without the presence of the angel, the image becomes a splash of colors. Thus Wenders has clearly, and skillfully, delimitated the difference between worldly and divine. Those that are unseen, but felt by children and blind men have an ancient and essential experience for which the black and white picture seems adequate. With this movie that I will see once again, soon, Wim Wenders received 18 awards, amongst which one for best director during the Cannes Festival from 1987. The picture received another 10 nominations, including one for the BAFTA awards. During the ending credits of the movie , there is an emotional account, according to which the movie is dedicated to the former angels Yasujiro, François and Andrej, them being none other than: Yasujiro Ozu, François Truffaut, Andrej Tarkovsky. Especially the influence of the last “angel”, Tarkovsky, we can hint at it from the level of imagery: long shots with slow movements, but especially in the symbolic alternation of black-white scenes with the colored ones that we can find in Stalker. “The culprit” in building this image without reproach is Henri Alekan who, during his long career, took over the film editing of several cinematographic masterpieces. With Wim or without him, two existential questions arise: To endlessly observe or burn in a moment? How far must you go to discover yourself and later on, to rediscover yourself? I, for myself, have an answer. I know that there is a sort of a coming again or  …  a restoration of a rediscovered Heaven, not just “over Berlin”. Like taking a walk in darkness through consciousness. And the, almost physical, sensation of a light flash, There we will be, lesser angels in relation with our inner-child. With love and hostility, with acceptance, rejection and again acceptance. Without any contradictions in black and white. We will have found and embraced ourselves, forming our autonomy and keeping our intimacy. Where the sky begins.

 

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