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Wings of Desire
Wim Wender’s Wings of Desire seems to be a film about the nature of angels. In actuality, it is one of the most powerful statements about the nature of humans ever made. It is a revitalizing film—thoughtful, probing, and a celebration of human life through the eyes of angelic beings who could never understand it. As we watch people's lives from the these angels' points of view, we learn to appreciate humanity not only for its moments of joy, but for its moments of sorrow and pain and, even more profound, on basic levels of routine, such as the taste of coffee on your tongue or the feeling of sand at your feet. I am reminded of an elderly woman who once told a child that if she could do it all again, she’d have eaten more ice cream and less vegetables. It’s possible that she was a former angel. Wings of Desire follows the observations of two angels, Damiel (Bruno Ganz) and Cassiel (Otto Sandler), as they walk the streets of Berlin and observe and record what they see. They cannot be seen, but they can see and hear all, including thoughts of specific humans who they choose to zero in on. We assume that they are here to make sure that things are running smoothly, and to offer invisible encouragement to humans who look like they could use it, which they do by touching their foreheads with a person. The angels’ mission is established in the opening scenes in which we follow their points of view from place to place. They transport unseen from location to location, listening quietly to thoughts and writing down interesting events that they witness. When the angels start speaking to each other, we realize their great dilemma. While they can observe people and occasionally interfere, they cannot experience what it is like to be human. It is as if they watch from a window—they see all, but they do not have senses, nor do they understand human emotions such as love, hate, fear, or sadness. Though they claim to enjoy watching humans through the filter of their spirituality, they also communicate their longing to discover what it is like to experience what these humans experience. To feel the ink of newspaper on your fingers. To tingle in the warmth of bathwater. Even to understand pain and evil from the perspective of a human being. Once Damiel and Cassiel admit to this curiosity, we understand just how bored and tired they look, and how fortunate we are to be human beings who can actually experience life on earth, and that even pain can be appreciated by those who have never felt it. Most of the film is simply the angel’s observations, following certain humans and listening to their thoughts, which come to us in voiceovers. Cassiel concerns himself maily with an aging poet (Curt Bois) who laments that no one cares about his words anymore. Damiel finds himself interested in a trapeze artist named Marion (Solveig Dommartin), whose career is about to come to an end. For a long time, we simply watch as they trail behind these people, listening to their often depressing thoughts. But because we realize the longing and curiosity that these angels have to understand human nature, these scenes in which they simply observe come to life and leave a real impact. We understand that angels are incapable of feeling anything, and as a result, these sad thoughts seem refreshing to the viewer. We recognize that even in pain, humanity is a beautiful and wonderful experience because it is all about that experience, and the sensation of feeling any sensation at all. Wenders, who also wrote the film, is challenging us to find happiness in the fact that we are alive, that we can feel our lungs fill with air, that we can kick the sand at our feet, that we can discern between the colors on a graffitied building. Wings of Desire was shot in Berlin before the wall came down, and throughout the film, the wall lingers in the background, a constant symbol of pain and politics. The wall becomes even more significant because of the film’s message is that joy can be found even in agony. Consider the scene in which Damiel screams in despair as he watches a human jump to his death. Damiel cries out because he has witnessed a human who has taken humanity for granted, and now, the man has lost it forever. The message: People take for granted the joys that can be seen in the world around us, and our ability to grasp it with all five of our senses. We should not allow ourselves to be overcome by any great pain in life, Wenders argues, because there is always so much joy to be experienced simply by being alive, and they can be found even in the simplest things. Wenders shoots in black and white from the angels’ perspectives, and switches to color when we are watching from humans’ viewpoints. This is not only a clever filmmaking trick, but a strong metaphor for human beings’ ability to have passions and sensations without ever appreciating them. As viewers, we understand how drab the world seems in black and white when compared to color, but how often do we stop to admire such colors of life around us every day, both physical and emotional? By the time Damiel decides that he is in love with the trapeze artist and chooses to become human, he is overjoyed to feel blood on the back of his wounded head, to sit in an empty lot, to smoke a cigarette. His appreciation for humanity makes him seem mad to others in the film, but for the viewer, it is contagious. We realize that the angels in Wings of Desire serves as a metaphor for human awakening, and never has a film enticed us with such joy for life. Cinema was made for films like this. Cast: MGM Presents a Westdeutscher
Rundfunk Film. Directed by Wim Wenders. Written by Wenders and
Peter Handke. M.P.A.A. rating: PG-13, for language and some brief
nudity/sexuality. Running time: 127 minutes. Original United States
release date: April 29, 1988. German and French, with English
subtitles. |
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