Scherbengericht

The most beautiful achievement of Jan Eilhardt's film is its apprehension- a realization that when one seeks to portray disabled and sick people in film one CANNOT pretend to fully understand. Rather than holding open a door with an affected gaze- a door the sick and disabled can open themselves- one encounters them with an empathetic helplessness. J.E. regards his characters in the manner of Jean Cocteau who demanded that his artworks above all astound and astonish him. Proceeding from this demand and fulfilling it, J.E. creates or discovers a kind of open form in which his filmic gaze, following its characters in quasi-documentary mode, endows them with a freedom that in turn radiates throughout the film. J.E. is moved, but not in the manner of a mothering do- gooder who addresses himself to the less fortunate. He is much more like an attentively observant painter who is entirely impressed and possessed by his object. Only at that stage does his painting begin, not earlier. J.E. has created an artwork that enters an unknown land, the land of the sick and disabled, without ever colonizing it.

At first everyone seems to have a problem - paralysed limbs, epilepsy - or a dissatisfaction (the angry brother who drinks and is just out of therapy, the mother who blames the son for laziness, the care worker who is cynical and likely dishonest). Amadou simply wants to stay in Germany however he can. We begin to see the 'healthy' people are generally more unhappy than those with physical or mental problems, fearing or despising everyone who is 'different' and resentful of everyone they must interact with. Granny sees Amadou as "a great tragedy around one's neck" but in the end he is the kinder and more thoughtful one. The mother inadvertently does everything wrong, leading to a terrible (perhaps inevitable?) end for Thomas and nearly wrecking Nora too.

In a way we arrive at the end with a positive resolution, Nora and Isabel friends again, an African baby bringing happiness to the two women and honour to Amadou's family. There is a future waiting. A lot of information is tucked into the interstices here, opinions and evidence of racism and (well-meaning) cruelty, but people in the long-term care home (old friends now, party hosts) seem to work well within their world. Your opening remarks about passion and positive outlook have come true.