Gegen die Wand (2004)

Even on my third viewing, Gegen die Wand has lost nothing of its power. On paper, this would look like melodrama: suicide attempts, alcoholism, violence, a devout Muslim family, an arranged marriage, more violence, drugs, sex. But in Fatih Akin's hands, and because of the brilliant performance of the actors, this movie does not appear one bit overwrought. Partly, this is due to the brilliant performance of all actors. Secondly, under the surface of the sometimes brash build-up of a story, Akin is a careful enough writer & director to settle for subtle complexity. His characters are not moulded to be representatives of anything; gender, culture, generation. Mark my words, Akin did not make a movie about "a culture clash" (The German Way of Life vs. The Turkish Way of Life). In a brilliant way, his film opposes all such stereotypes (think, for example, about the scene towards the very end, in which Cahit, uncomfortable with talking bad Turkish, speaks to Sibel's sister in English)

Most of all, Gegen die Wand is a reflection on complicated love and unstoppable lust for life. When you thought you knew how to pinpoint one character, you realize that you were wrong. I don't see this as an artistic ploy - it's just how Akin works.

Just one example of how good this films works on a level of details: Cahit and his "uncle" pay a visit at Sibel's parents' to ask for her hand. Cahit brings a box of confectionary. While "uncle" presents the delicate case, Sibel's father resentfully chews the candies, arms crossed. That scene, with its bleak lighting, expresses a quiet, dark sense of humor. Even small expressive eruptions, like the chewing of confectionery, is painfully impregnated with meaning.

Akin is not afraid of heightened emotions. His use of music, for example, has everything to do with expressing a certain state of mind (he even has the different segments end with a mournful orchestra performance). But what is essential here is that this musical contribution is not a lame attempt at filling out the gaps on-screen, puffing up a scene so as to keep up the illusion. The music is the film; the relation between music and image is seamless.

There are some questionable elements in the film, too. What is going on in the multidue of scenes in which we witness Sybil's & Cahit's fits of destructive behavior? Afterwards, when some of the film's mojo has waned, I find myself asking: isn't there almost too much attitude in those scenes? If acts of violence become mere vehicles for yet another burst of strong emotion in an everlasting human tragedy, then there is reason to sober up and ask what's going on. Yes - and no. I might be inclined to say that there is something fishy here - but at the same time these scenes are not only outbursts of violence; it is not as if violence leave no mark on the characters (and the viewer). The scene in which Sibel, raped by an opium-dealer, beats up a pack of guys (who offer their services), and is severly beaten up by them in turn, is a scene I will never be able to forget. Akin works brilliantly with emotional volatility here (and elsewhere, too): anger, disappointment, rage. It would be wrong to say that this is simply about "emotions" (& "emphasizing", whatever that is supposed to mean). In a few short minutes, Akin encapsulates an entire world of gender oppression, honor-talk, humiliation, pride - and, most important of all, defiance.