Abschied - Brechts letzter Sommer

An intimate portrait of Brecht's final days, set around tranquil surroundings which stand in contrast with the passionate emotions of the assorted characters (jealousy, betrayal, petty spite).

It is an absorbing study, examining in subtle detail Brecht's relationships, the deep love (and hate) he seemed to inspire from the women in his life, as well as portraying the often casual cruelty with which he treated them, i.e. he suddenly talks to his loyal 'helper' Elisabeth Hauptmann about his work after having studiously ignored her for a week. I found it interesting how the various women in his life were often irresistibly drawn to each other (unspoken) despite their open hostilities, i.e the alcoholic Ruth and the self-effacing Elisabeth.

The writer and director cleverly toyed with the relationship between the ageing Brecht, a man who fled the US before he could be indicted by MacCarthy , and Wolfgang Harich, the young dissident for whom the Stasi lie in wait in the woods.

The film is the story of a great writer and flawed individual. It is about the smallness of greatness. Brecht, who wrote about the difficulty of being a good man in a bad world, is non-committal, the showcase man of letters in Communist GDR, as opposed to Harich's political idealist. As Brecht warns Harich at the end (with almost prophetic hindsight), the younger man's arrest would symbolise 'his bad conscience'. Sadly, it is a prophecy that does not take long to be fulfilled

Abschied-Brechts letzter Sommer is a quiet film with a lot of suppressed noise. Brecht, played by Josef Bierbichler, is spending his last days in august 56, at his summer residence outside Berlin, surrounded by five women: his wife, Helene Weigel, his daughter Barbara, his assistant Elisabeth Hauptmannn, his former lover Ruth Berlau, his present lover, a young actress named Käthe Reichel and Isot Kilian, who's there with her open minded husband philosopher Wolfgang Harich, who's love-hate-friendship with Brecht is not the only thing that puts up some pressure between them. If you expect to get a lesson in Brechts works or some dry time document, get ready to be disappointed. The whole movie could be about a total unknown man, cause its not about an artist, its about a life of a man who was so focused on himself, he didn't see how he affected the people who were close to him. He must have had a big aura because of his professional success, cause he was already world famous when he was still alive. He is old, sick and not in best physical shape, but he was writing until he died. A chamber piece of selfishness, love, passion and jealousy.

Jan Schütte's film about Bertolt Brecht's last summer is a wonderful biopic. People who know Brecht's biography and his work recognize that the director succeeded in rendering even small details as perfect as possible. When I saw that Sepp Bierbichler plays Brecht, I thought: that's not possible. However, he surprised once more with his versatility. Monica Bleibtreu as Helene Weigel is simply incredibly good. Besides the main roles, the hitherto unknown actress Margit Rogall in the role of Brecht's collaborator Ruth Berlau is miraculous.

Besides offering a great cast, the film deals with a Brecht who has lost hope in the New Germany called DDR - or GDR in English -, but has not the force anymore to protest. So, he is widely adjusted and swallows his resignation as an inner emigration into himself. As one knows, Brecht died already with 58 from a heart attack. Partially one gets the impression that the director focused specifically Brecht-connoisseurs as audience (although this is not a necessary condition to understand the movie). For example when Ruth Berlau jumps out of her seat crying that Brecht's daughter wanted to burn her - Berlau died in the Charité Hospital in Berlin from a fire that she caused by her cigarette - and this is exactly what she is doing in the movie. Or we see Brecht very uncomfortably sitting in his chair trying to but not succeeding in writing - Brecht used to write standing on specially high desks. Shortly before Brecht leaves his summer residence in Buckow, young GDR-pioneers are reciting for him one of his famous love-poems from "Baal" - at that time, Brecht may have known that with the summer also his lifetime has gone.

I saw this movie as part of a series of films dealing with The Family. No, it wasn't sponsored by "Focus on The Family"! In that context it was a standout. Most of the audience (including myself) were less concerned about the film's historic accuracy than its portrayal of Brecht's "hareem" and the tensions that seem to always accompany such an arrangement. Brecht's poetry plays a role, but the politics seemed to be there just to set up tension between the two male leads. I thought the periodic shots of different members of the family swimming was an interesting way of showing escape. The device of setting the movie in a single day with the chiming clock to mark time was also effective. The violent end of the story, which you are set up for in the first few minutes, was very jarring nonetheless.

I enjoyed this film overall, especially in its portrayal of Brecht's efforts to keep harmony within the little harem he'd created for himself. Nonetheless, I have some objections to the political overtones of the film. The film unfortunately reinforces the old anti-communist cliché of life in the DDR ('East Germany') as a nightmarish existence under a police state, and we are introduced to that idea early on when the Stasi (the DDR's FBI) come knocking at the door to inquire about one of Brecht's guests, Wolfgang Harich. And it certainly comes as no surprise to anyone that the Brechts' summer vacation ends with Harich's arrest(moreover, there's the suggestion that, in politics, Brecht's soon-to-end life came down to just that: turning a blind eye to the oppressive character of the DDR).

There's a bit of historical distortion here, however. Harich was active in the SED (the DDR's Communist Party) for a number of years and known to be in opposition to the existing leadership, as he attempted to articulate and rally support for a 'third path' between capitalism and bureaucratic socialism, a so-called 'humane socialism.' He was not arrested by the Stasi at the end of the summer of 1956, but rather in November of that year. What's the dif? Well, in the fall of 1956 there occurred the uprising in Hungary, which eventually took on virulently anti-Soviet overtones, with the consequence that it was interpreted by all the regimes in the 'socialist' bloc as life-threatening. In other words, Harich's arrest was not so much evidence of the DDR's inability to tolerate dissenting ideas as it was a measure of the state of international, geo-political tensions at that time (don't forget, similar things had gone on in the US with the anti-communist witch hunts). In fact, Harich, after his release from prison in 1964, went on to publish and teach in the DDR: he continued to argue for German re-unification under socialist auspices and for greater attention to environmental concerns under socialism; he traveled to the West and always returned to the DDR (though opportunities to 'defect' were not lacking), and, after the collapse of the DDR, refused to testify against those who had imprisoned him in 1956. He remained a life-long proponent of a socialist society and economy in which the human values of friendship and community, solidarity and equality, health and environment, culture and enlightenment would hold sway over the commercialization of all aspects of life that is our fate under capitalism. And he firmly believed that, however warped the socialism of the DDR had been in the past, it contained the seeds for evolving in the right direction.

I also find objectionable the suggestion that Brecht himself was complicit in the DDR's oppressiveness, at least to the extent that he failed to publicly denounce Ulbrecht (the DDR's leader at the time) and his regime. I think it fair to say that someone who objected to many aspects of the DDR regime but still wished to hold on to his influence with the leaders would necessarily walk a dangerous tightrope; and it is no easy matter to judge whether Brecht would have served the cause of humane socialism better had he spoken out more forcefully against Ulbrecht's regime (though, obviously, that would make for better cinema).