A DVD doesn't often look far better than the film that
played in theaters, but this new release of Wings
of Desire, Wim Wenders' brooding story of angels
floating about Berlin, absolutely does. Legendary cinematographer
Henri Alekan, whose beautiful black-and-white photography
and stunning in-camera effects helped make Jean Cocteau's Beauty
and the Beast an enduring classic, was the perfect
choice to give Wenders' surreal film the visual statement
it needed. Alekan's black-and-white images are crisp
yet ethereal, but theater audiences saw a compromised
version of his work; because sections of the film are
in color, all of the release prints were struck on a
color positive stock, which yielded softer, slightly
tinted monochrome images. For this disc, MGM went back
to the original source materials, and the resulting images
have a purity never before seen.
In his audio commentary, Wenders proclaims that this
transfer is the first time the film has looked as he
imagined it would when he directed it. The filmmaker
is quite revealing and straightforward about his approach
to making Wings of Desire, which has become a
cult classic, if not simply a classic, in the years since
its release. Wenders' was keen to capture his hometown,
Berlin, on film; inspired by poet Rainer Maria Rilke,
he settled upon the notion of angels who could somehow
float through the city and secretly share in moments
of some residents' lives. Wenders asked German novelist
Peter Handke to write dialogue for just a handful of
scenes, and the filmmakers made up the rest of the film
as they went along. The director recalls that without
a script, everyone on set became an active participant
in the production; however, he also acknowledges that
some sequences would have been more effective if they
had been scripted.
According to Wenders, Alekan was sold on Wings of
Desire the moment he learned it was about angels,
and his only non-negotiable demand was that he be allowed
to do all of the visual effects in camera. Though the
cinematographer was 79 years old at the time, he worked
tirelessly to find visual details and refine his approach.
When scheduling constraints allowed little time for
lighting, Alekan rose to the challenge; when time allowed,
he was astoundingly meticulous. An example of the latter
was his lighting of a trailer interior: Wenders was
called away from the location to tend to another matter,
and when he returned a couple of hours later, Alekan
and his crew were still lighting the tiny space. Wenders
was astounded to find 38 Inkies inside the trailer,
and is certain that Alekan would have lit for three
more hours if he'd had them. The director notes that
although Alekan's lighting of that scene is far more
elaborate than he'd expected, it brings a tremendous
texture and dimension to the scene. (In 1995, the ASC
honored the inventive Alekan with its International
Achievement Award.)
Wenders decided to film scenes depicting the human perspective
in color, and those depicting the angels' perspective
in black-and-white. Whereas color shows the surface of
things, he explains, black-and-white shows their essence.
Most of the film's power comes from Alekan's black-and-white
rendering of mid-1980s Berlin, which is all the more
fascinating today, now that it's a record of a city that
no longer exists in the same form. The no-man's land
of West Berlin leading up to the Berlin Wall gives the
film one of its most evocative backdrops.
This disc will be treasured by the film's devoted fans,
who have never seen the black-and-white sections presented
in their full tonal range, and it's also worth a look
for those who were somewhat put off by the film at first
viewing. Wenders' commentary and a short documentary
that's also included help explain why aspects of the
film are as perplexing as they are, and provide a better
sense of what the filmmakers had in mind.
- Jon Silberg