Saturday, 27 April 2013

The Second Heimat

This was probably one of the first, if not the first, art-house film I saw. I saw it at age of fifteen. It captivated me and fuelled my imagination. Heimat was a 15-hour long film (divided into 11 episodes) about a German village. It covers a village from 1919 until 1984, amidst the backdrop of sweeping historical change. The Second Heimat is a 25-hour long film (divided into 13 episodes). It follows a young aspiring composer who leaves the village, vows to never return, and settles in Munich to study composition. It is set in between 1959 and 1970 and covers a range of characters. Most of these characters are either artists of some sort of another, and are either fiercely avant-garde or partake in political activism. An equally good series was made - called Heimat 3: A Chronicle of Endings and Beginnings - which returns to this village after the fall of the Berlin wall.

There is a scene in the film, where a virtuosic cellist called Clarissa spends Christmas in a hospital ward. To pass the time, she reads Robert Musil's mammoth 1000-odd page tome The Man Without Qualities. And indeed, this film is a celluloid equivalent of that kind of undertaking. It requires endurance, patience and attention. A sizable chunk of your life will be devoted to this. (Though, if you think about it, how many hours has one whiled away in front of the television set? Or the contemporary equivalent - the internet?)


The film follows Herman Simon, a vain, proud and jaundiced aspiring composer. The films begins with him making two vows: that he will never "love" again and that he will never return to the German village, Schabbach. This, I think, highlights the film's only major weakness: its frequent lapse into bloated melodrama. That aside, the cinematography is lush and the first episode in particular is especially propulsive and engaging.  Hermann's awe at this vast, sprawling city, and his discovery of atonal avant-garde music, are particularly striking. Although Herman essentially remains the central character, each episode is allocated its own protagonist.

It must be noted that the English translation of the title is problematic. The German word 'Heimat,' in itself, is loaded with implications. It is a word which has very specific connotations as regards Germany. It means 'Homeland' (though Germans insist that it is difficult to translate to foreigners). Several fascist and right-wing films were made called 'Heimat,' which glorified chauvinism and national pride. Edgar Reitz's first Heimat series was interesting in that it was a film refracted through a more leftist perspective. The Second Heimat refers to a second home we adopt as adults. The title Heimat 2 (the official English translation) suggests that it is a kind of sequel, which in many ways it is not. The narrative is not a continuation from the first installation, it is a departure.


The film highlights a rift between an older generation and the rise of a new one. The older generation, most of whom are former Nazis, are far more socially conservative and try to temper the rampant radicalism of these youngsters. The film also traces the emergence of three movements: the German New Wave (which proudly declares 'Papa's cinema is dead'), the classical avant-garde and the radical left known as the 'Red Army Faction' (which later resorted to terrorism). Whilst these older figures, for the most part, are not depicted kindly, the younger characters are very listless and impetuous. The political activists, in particular, seem less interested in actual revolution than they are in sexual liberation (there is a Hippie commune) or to simply derive a false sense of comfort (as the character Helga seems to). The characters Helga and Ansgar seem to embody this abrasive angst the most. They feel riled by the failure of their parents to recognise their Nazi past and by their conservative intolerance.

The artists, for the most part, are crushed by the sheer weight of their own ambitions. Hermann concocts megalomaniac schemes which never truly pan out. He is eventually bequeathed his own electronic studio where he can do whatever he wants (we see echoes of Stockhausen and Boulez's IRCAM here). Nothing really ever materialises and he later admits to himself that he has been granted the project because of the youthful idealism he radiates. Similarly, the film directors try directing several film projects, but more often than not they never get off the ground.


The earlier episodes, in my mind, are better and the later ones can lag at times. This is chiefly because the earlier characters are more interesting. The earlier characters are musicians whereas the later ones are film directors. The musician characters have more of a vibrancy to them because they are actual musicians (their performances in the film are genuine and they are stellar), whereas the film directors are actors. Music, in itself, is more of a nebulous form than film and therefore lends itself to dramatisation. Film is more clearly defined and the dramatisation of film directors therefore becomes more problematic, since the art of these characters carries more semantic connotations.

Although the film deals with the German New Wave, and in many ways is a chronicle of the 60s avant-garde, it is shot in a classical manner. There is no experimentation with film form or anything of the sort. Ultimately, the film's chief concern is in the manifold ways it treats narrative. It has all the scale and breadth of reading a large literary novel. That's not to say that it isn't beautifully shot. The artful interchange between colour and black and white which was used in the first series is once more deployed to great effect. (Especially since day time is shot in b/w whereas night time is shot in colour, which highlights the sense of excitement it has for these characters.

Even though these characters have lofty pretensions, the film does not shy away from exploring several love affairs and unfortunate tragedies. Some of these affairs have a lot of fizz to them (such as the one between Ansgar and Clara), though others are less interesting and can become very heavy-handed. The film at least has three tragic deaths. As I said before, this kind of melodrama can become a little heavy-handed at times, though more often than not the relationships between characters are three-dimensional and thoroughly engaging.

Finally, I'll stress the importance this film has had in my life. I had just discovered at the time I began listening to 20th century classical music, so the dramatisation of composers, at the time, I found very compelling. Ultimately, it is a big, big film and it has taken me to places few films have done.

No comments: