Phoenix

The story is deliberately preposterous. In fact, it *must* be preposterous in order for the metaphor to work. A disfigured concentration camp survivor "Nelly" undergoes facial reconstruction which makes her so unrecognizable that her own husband doesn't recognize her; instead he insists that his wife is dead. But he wants to use Nelly as an imposter so he can collect her inheritance.

If this brings to mind the idea of Nicolas Cage and John Travolta swapping faces in the awesomely bad "Face/Off", then you're not far off the mark. But listen up, here's why it works perfectly.

The theme of "Phoenix" involves how people face an unacceptable past. There are 3 main characters who each personify a particular, extreme response. It has to be extreme, it has to be preposterous, and most importantly we have to accept it. Either that or just walk out of the theater after 5 minutes and watch Monday night football instead. Our 3 characers are: 1) Nelly - she cannot let go of her traumatic past, and at the same time she has no past because she has no identity, figuratively and literally. 2) The husband "Johnny" - he utterly rejects the past, for reasons you'll figure out soon enough, and so he refuses to recognize his wife. In fact, we get the feeling that even if she were the spitting image of herself, he would still refuse truth. Such is the nature of psychological denial. And 3) We have Nelly's only friend "Lena" who has become a tireless political activist, saving survivors and trying to keep the past "alive" even though she is confronted with a society that has already moved on.

So you see how this story isn't supposed to be taken as a literal drama but rather as a very creative metaphor to illustrate how psychology works in 3 vastly different personality types. Further driving the surreal nature home, we have gorgeously shot, vividly composed visuals. If you ever wondered how Film Noir would look in color, then look no further. There have been a few contemporary classics which sought to bring Film Noir into the modern age, such as 2005's "Sin City" with its introduction of red to the crisp b&w palette, or before that was 1994's "The Crow" with its use of extreme darkness and "dead" colors. Here in 2014's is the next decade's evolution. In this case there is bold use of colors, but they are distinctly and "impossibly" presented: a dark alley is illuminated with a ghostly red light even though there are no red light sources to be seen, or a dark scene of bombed out ruins has unrealistic islands of light illuminating patches of rubble, all in vivid color but with stark contrast against the black spaces. The cinematography and lighting is as purposely unrealistic as the plot.

Ultimately if you grasp all of this, or if you just decide to go along with it for the sake of seeing how everything turns out, your suspension of disbelief will be amply rewarded. As nearly every other reviewer has noted, the ending is fantastic. Beyond fantastic, it's the whole point of the movie. In an interview, director Christian Petzold says the entire story comes down to the last 3 minutes, and that's where it will either come together or utterly fall apart. For my money, it's a total winner. "Phoenix" definitely does NOT crash & burn.

Adapted from Hubert Monteilhet's novel 'Return from the Ashes,' director Christian Petzold's Phoenix has the air of a revisionist war film with a science-fiction twist. Granted, it has some liberties in the supposed advancement of medical science for the 1940s, featuring a surgery that's not even really possible today, but with its stark approach to its pulpy atmosphere, it's easy to buy into anything it wants to do because of its compelling narrative.

The film follows Nelly, played by Nina Hoss, a Jewish concentration camp survivor and former nightclub singer who's suffered severe disfigurement. She undergoes facial reconstruction, nearly looking like her old self, and tries to find peace with her lost previous identity. She heads to post-war Berlin to locate her estranged husband and partner in their former activism, played by Ronald Zehrfeld, but upon doing so he recruits her to help him on a scam to claim his wife's inheritance. As she looks almost alike, he moulds her to act like his wife did and have her 'return' and scoop up the money.

There's another liberty you have to buy in order to go along with Phoenix. That being, despite all the hints, at no point does her husband Johnny recognize Nelly until the inevitable moment. This redressing of a former lover plot line is quite reminiscent of Hitchcock's Vertigo, but with Johnny's indifference and greed it's a different spin, and we observe Nelly's submissive re- judgment of him. It thrives on the dramatic irony of when Johnny thinks that she isn't acting enough like his wife. It's fascinating to watch her rediscover herself, and a delight when she impresses him with how accurate she can be at times. All these minor contrivances work thematically to build a picture of a search for identity and heartbreaking betrayal. It's a refreshing perspective on a revision of a past life and then healing from it.

Christian Petzold and Nina Hoss' collaborations have been steadily building momentum as Phoenix, their 4th film together, gains buzz on the festival circuit. Clearly it is a beneficial partnership. Through her glassy eyed look nearly in tears and her anxious movements, Hoss faultlessly marries fragility with a burning motivation to disquiet her soul. She may be easily manipulated due to her weakened psychological and physical state, but she always has intentions that she's slowly building up to. Before taking board with her husband, she's assisted by Lene, played by Nina Kunzendorf, a fellow Jewish activist. Her performance is steely and enigmatic, and I can't help but want to know more about her and her motivations so it's a shame the film doesn't quite deliver in that regard.

Often times the film holds back on payoff, although it's often executed in thoughtful manners. Most strikingly is in the film's conclusion. In a way, it almost feels as though it's missing an entire third act. Perhaps the director felt it did not need an epilogue, but I was left hungry to explore the consequences. Hoss does admit that they didn't know how to end it. However, it is a remarkable display of restraint to leave it as open as it did and frankly it works with the slight nature of the film beforehand. But on the other hand it feels like Petzold simply ran out of ideas and is idly leaving the viewer to fill in the rest. The film constantly feels like it's building to something, and the ending changes everything in hindsight, but perhaps it works in the film's favour, to draw a comparison to The Sopranos' infamous final moment as it leaves you cold.

Despite the film's small scale, with most of it taking place in Johnny's small apartment, it does show off lush production design. Postwar rubble has never felt quite a mess like this since Saving Private Ryan. The film does try to take on a grander scale, implying that the formation of Israel is like Nelly and reborn from the ashes, but it works best when it's focused on the core relationship. The saturated but vivid cinematography contributes to its beguiling pulp tone and it holds a lot of tension in the air, complimenting the weight of the performances. It's a fascinating concept and well-executed script, and my only reservations with Phoenix come with its choice of the resolutions for its various plot threads. But these are up for debate, and they're ones worth engaging in for such an otherwise stellar and quietly affecting film.

8/10

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You do have to suspend a bit of disbelief to get there on the haunting journey, but the movie's final scene will stay with you forever. Amazing performances by the two leads and assured, understated directing that only intensifies the climax.

Absolutely not to be missed, even (or particularly) if you think you've seen every possible treatment of the toll of the Holocaust on individual lives.

This could have been a disaster. The premise (which I will not spoil, but is easy to find) takes some swallowing, but director Petzold and star Hess get you over the initial bump to set up a situation of great tension. The difficulty then becomes resolving that satisfactorily - and when I saw Nina Hess introduce this movie at the London Film Festival, she said that initially they weren't sure how to end it - but they pull off an absolutely bravura climax to the tale, an unforgettable scene, cinema at its finest.

Hess is brilliant in the central role, a really difficult part that she makes absolutely convincing. The other star here is the cinematography. There are other fine moments too - a really creepy scene early on full of women with bandaged faces - that help set the atmosphere. But the real thrill is to see a story told with such conviction and concluded with such panache.

Hubert Monteilhet's novel has been filmed three times I saw two of them. The 1960's Return From The Ashes and this one, Phoenix (2014) - the one I haven't seen is a TV version from the 1980's Le retour d'Elisabeth Wolff, but now I really want to see it. Phoenix is a moody, painful journey to a rebirth. Nina Hoss is lovely as the survivor, Ronald Zehofeld plays the husband, object of her obsession. He's an interesting actor, a mix between Benicio del Toro and the young Orson Welles. Their scenes together have a realistic, tangible suspense. But Christian Petzold, the director of Jerichow (2008), gives the whole film a severe pace and tone, the 1964 version has a sharp, sophisticated script by Julius J Epstein with titles like Casablanca to his credit and J Lee Thompson at the helm, Thompson directed films like The Guns Of Navarone, Cape Fear and What A Way To Go. So his version, Return From The Ashes, is a whole other experience, at time it's even funny. With a superlative international cast cast, Maximilian Schell, Ingrid Thulin and Samantha Eggar - So one can see both films as it they weren't even related.