About the film "Wings of Desire"

This Wim Wenders directed film follows a spirit who's tired of the spiritual and yearns for physical existence. The spirit is an angel named Damiel, and his journeys with his companion, Cassiel, expose the isolation inherent in the human condition. But, moreover, Damiel's particular existential crisis gently urges us to appreciate the little things and decide for ourselves that life matters.

The angels can hear people's thoughts, so thinking makes up most of the film's dialog. I enjoyed Cassiel's going to the library where he finds other angels listening to books being narrated in people's minds as they read. There he finds an old man whom he follows, is drawn to perhaps because the aged traveler is so enduring and purposeful, who self-identifies as a storyteller, an indispensable part of humanity.

Meanwhile, Damiel wanders into a low-budget children's circus whose star performer is a beautiful, unfulfilled trapeze artist named Marion. He falls for her, lusts for her, and is spellbound by her poetically lonely train of thought. They share a yearning.

Damiel brings Cassiel to that night's circus performance, which is to be the last of the year. But as Damiel absorbs the show, Cassiel sees how deeply his companion feels the need to live. Afterwards Damiel confesses as much. Marion, while celebrating at the circus staff's after-party, pauses and, in her thoughts, appreciates being alive. Hearing this, Damiel's heart breaks.

So he resolves to become real, and when an empty piece of body armor crashes onto his head, Damiel wakes in a vacant lot, apparently knocked unconscious after being dropped from Heaven--a helicopter hovering overhead. To be human is to be vulnerable, so he pawns his rickety old armor and finds Marion at a night club. There, they each taste of the wine from the bar and she asks him to join her in a life of consequence, to live as if they are setting new precedents for future generations.

The story inverts the usual paradigm: instead of man imagining and chronicling heaven as the grand but remote paradise, the angels imagine and chronicle man as the simple and immediate body, and they do so in ways that elevate man without pretending he’s a miracle. This inversion is sacrilegious, but it does no harm.

The viewing audience watches the angels watch the people. When a scene calls for your sympathy and you feel that sympathy, you feel the sympathy of the angels, you see Earth through the angels’ eyes. For example, in one scene we peek in on a small family and find a young man alone in his bedroom, sulking and brooding over how nobody knows he’s alive, but then we learn his dad is sitting alone in front of the TV and worrying about his son’s future while mom sits alone in the kitchen doing the same.

Notes

• Peter Falk of course is really charming in this, single-handedly keeping a good chunk of the film interesting. ("Columbo" is one of the best series ever.)
• Cassiel urges someone to his shoes correctly--using a double knot.

Half-day

On half-days in grade school, right after the first bell we'd file out of school into church for the first of a two-part mass. After noon we'd return, incense swelling, to witness the priest recover the alter. This brief reprisal would end with a spirited hymn sung with all the joy of children eager to start the long weekend early. It was during the singing of one of these hymns I remember first feeling the rush, like adrenaline, like possibility, like freedom, raw and holy, pushing over the precipice of the sky, promising to obliterate us all.

Something on the movie "Stone"

"Stone" opens on a domestic scene circa 1963: a young husband sits on the couch. His wallflower wife brings him a beer. After some hand-wringing, she says she's leaving him. He bolts upstairs, grabs their baby daughter and dangles her out the open bedroom window of their two-story home. He threatens to drop the child if the wife abandons him. She concedes, agrees to stay. The scene ends with the baby safely back in her crib, the wife slamming the window shut, killing a buzzing housefly. Silence.

The young man is now Jack Mabry (Robert DeNiro), a stern, privately devout parole officer wrapping up his career. His last case is Gerald Creeson, aka "Stone" (Edward Norton), a fidgety loser locked up for arson. Intent on securing his release from prison, Stone and his wife Lucetta (Milla Jovovich) start to work on Jack, intent on corrupting him through very welcome relations with Lucetta. The film traces this psychologically twisted triangle.

In the time before what he hopes will be his final hearing, Stone discovers and embraces a spiritual theory of redemption: one must become aware of his depravity, of all that surrounds him, and open himself to the possibility of redemption. The moment you're first aware comes inconspicuously; it may come, for example, when you first notice a small sound, maybe a breeze or buzzing insect. The film ends somewhat ambiguously, but the redemption theory provides a framework for interpreting each character's fate.

Edward Norton, Milla Jovavich, and Robert DeNiro give three fantastic performances.