Great Freedom

For two hours I chose to sit through incessant violence, injustice, humiliation, most horrible expressions of human weakness in order to see the gem of a human soul. I would refer to this one as genocide-themed or even the Holocaust but there's so much more to it. Despite the obvious background, it is all about endurance, fearlessness and as simple as it is: a Human Heart.

First, it's not true this is the first film that deals with the infamous Paraghraph 175 of Germany. Just to name a few (because I can't claim I watched all the films in the world), there's cinema verite style 'Jagdszene aus Niederbayerm', 70's melodrama 'Die Konsequenz', and the whole dedicated documentary 'Paragraph 175'...

But unlike in the UK media where the anniversary of 1967 legalization of homosexuality is celerbrated with TV specials and dramas, Germany has been definitely sluggish to recognize the victims of Pink Triangle that carried into post war West Germany. Only in 2018, the German president officially apologized about the unjustly penalized gays in the past... so overall it is a welcome in itsef that we finally see a major production that portrays the misery and consequence P.175 created.

It is polished, well acted, pretty down to earth and at times hard hitting film. But it's also slow, not particularly innovative or gripping. I can't vision this film becoming a world wide sensation a la 'the Brokeback Mountain'.

But what this 2 hour long film does clearly demonstrates is how a taboo and penalization against nature can kill the free spirit of a person... While we see Hans getting somewhat more comfortable in the prison environment and even learn to use the system to his advantage over the 3 decades of in and out of impresonment, we see how the experience has killed his spirit in the last scene where he is supposed to savour the 'great freedom' that has finally arrived. I'm from the culture where homosexuality remains a huge taboo if not illegal... and even now living in a different country where 'it's OK to be gay', I find myself still constantly self-regulating and cover up about my sexuality. It is unimaginable what kind psychological damage the genration who suffered what Hans has carried in them.

As miserable as is, I think it's always important to address the past. For the generation who thinks gay right is the given right and the Pride means just a party, it is important to watch such a reminder of how fragile our freedom really is, the impact of a single law can have on an individual's life, and thus, in extension, the importance of our political choice... especially living the current time of the regression.

Most prison movies do not ackowledge the fact of same-sex love. Most prison movies go out of their way to ignore it. There are exceptions, such as Fortune and Men's Eyes (1971), Kiss of the Spider Woman (1985), and the jail episode of Todd Haynes' portmanteau work Poison (1991). Grosse Freiheit rises above all of these by dint of its complete absence of sentimentality, the power of its performances, its complex but clearly-told time-frame, and its commitment to effectively portraying love in the hearts of otherwise lost souls. It carefully weaves imagery that would not be out of place in a novel into the story of Germany's incessant persecution of homosexual men, which only stopped when the hated paragraph 175 of the German Penal Code was reformed in 1969.

The film runs on three time lines, in the three decades during which the central character, Hans Hoffman, finds himself in jail for pursuing his desires. Production design and, especially, make-up and costume, work with enormous tact but great effectiveness to conjure up each era. The structure of the film, its story-telling, is really beautifully put together.

There are really only four main characters, of which two are our main concern. They are played brilliantly by Georg Friedrich and, as Hoffman himself, Franz Rogowski, in as shattering a screen performance as you'll ever see.

The final section of the film is perhaps a little glib, but it's a very small flaw in an otherwise masterly movie.

This superbly made prison movie is one of the few that put homosexuality in the epicentre. Great Freedom centers around the postwar life path of a German homosexual which more often than not leads him to incarceration whenever he exercises his Freedom of choice. The irony of the German modernity miracle is plain to see.

The protagonist's -played by Rogowski- pathway intertwines more and more with another inmate's, a drug addict played by Friedrich. Both actors performances are exemplary and the latter shines particularly towards the end.

The film has a low profile, recreating a realistic and moody representation of 1950s- 1970s. There are few colours, just a dark grey and washed away blue are used that help acclimatise the viewer. The incorporation of the 'Great step for mankind' into the prison's microcosm is another brilliant moment.

Understandably, many people will consider this a movie about true love. Whatever that means. More generally, it is a story about human condition and the effort to retain one's defining qualities, our humanity in the most arid wastelands. Ultimately, as Rilke would have put it, this can only be a tale about loneliness.

An emblematic scene arises at the court when the judges clinically y summarise Rogowski's moral crimes and deprivation. The bureaucratic onslaught carried out with impeccable bureaucratic professionalism and disregard for human life leaves the audience numb and speechless.

To capitalism critics the movie offers a striking parable to former-communist countries collapse. The Great Freedom they were promised, never realised. This can explain the last scene, which I nevertheless find more convincing than Moonlight's far-fetched virginity supposition.

In 1980 Frank Ripploh gave us "Taxi zum klo", a raunchy, rather self-satisfied (albeit slightly mocking) look at the gay scene in Berlin of that time, with a singular focus on the bulimic sexual doings of Ripploh, playing himself as one of its committed denizens. With his terrific Austro-German "Great Freedom", Sebatian Meiser takes us back to that period and to all that had gone before and gives a corrective, eschewing all the clichés about gay life, prison life, German life, or just-plain life and love that you can think of. Freedom, he seems to be telling us, comes from within and must be conquered individually, against the massive odds that society puts up against it. Toward the end of this new film, we are given a glimpse of the pseudo-freedom in which Ripploh gloried. Meiser tells us that this Great Freedom is not the real thing at all, and that affirming your sexuality alone, without an understanding of your whole self and the constraints of the world you live in, is meaningless.

At a Q&A at NYC's Film Forum last night, Meiser stated that he had had Franz Rogoski in mind as the protagonist as he was developing the project, and that if Rogoski had turned him down he didn't know what he would have done. Since Hans, Rogoski's character, is present in almost every frame of this picture (including ones shot in total darkness), we are never left in doubt as to why Meiser felt this: Rogoski gives us what has to be one of the most intelligent, committed, uncompromising performances of that past decade, at least. Hans, we learn (or are led to infer), had been convicted of lewd homosexual acts by the Nazis and thrown into a concentration camp (details of all that, and of how he survived, are left to our imaginations) only to be imprisoned again in 1945 under the post-war Allied occupation, to serve out the balance of his sentence. From then onward, his life largely unfolds behind bars, as the German penal code's Paragraph 175, outlawing gay sexual activity, ensures that whenever he gets out of jail and asserts his right to be himself, an unapologetic gay man hungry for connection, he ends up back in prison. Which is where most of the film takes place, within a perfectly realized, relentlessly grim carceral world which differs from the grim outside world only in its details and rituals.

Forget any notions you've gained from redundant genre films about gay people (tormented and/or triumphant), or of any prison film you have ever seen, or of any love story you can think of, or indeed any expectations at all. Rogoski's realization of Meiser's uncompromising vision is note perfect, and therefore harrowing. He has been compared to Joachim Phoenix, and I see the point, but, much as I admire Phoenix when he's in the right hands, Rogoski goes farther and deeper into his character than I have seen Phoenix do. (Though perhaps Phoenix has never gotten to work with a director of Meiser's talent.)

There's plenty of violence here, physical and psychological, but it is treated as being the in the natural order of things: we are not invited to be shocked, or scandalized, but rather to reflect on how banal it is, and on how little prison differs from life outside. In this way, "Great Freedom" (has any movie title ever been as ironic?) takes us back to the existentialists: to Sartre's "Hell is other people", to Camus' Dr. Rieux in Oran under quarantine.

This is a film about being true to yourself, in life and in love, set against a world that has other ideas about who you are and who you are expected to be and that will grind you down every chance it gets. It' a masterpiece.