A period film about Nazi resistance is expected to be staid and stoic. Vincent Perez’s Alone in Berlin epitomizes that, seemingly attempting to conform to those period film clichés and aspiring to no greater narrative goals. An adaptation of the novel Every Man Dies Alone by Hans Fallada based on the real lives of Otto and Elise Hampel, Alone in Berlin has plenty of potential, from its protagonists’ understated defiance to its cast. The end result, however, plays like a paint-by-numbers tale of wartime resistance that puts plenty of energy into convincing viewers that it’s a serious film about tragic heroism while neglecting to make its heroes full-fledged characters whose motivations and fears impact the audience.
Otto (Brendan Gleeson) and Anna (Emma Thompson) Quangel stand to represent a very intriguing section of the population under the Nazi regime, one that isn’t necessarily the major focus of most period films set in Germany during WWII. They are a modest, working-class couple, the parents of one son who is currently fighting on the front lines. Their opinion of the Nazi regime isn’t clearly established in this adaptation, as written by Perez and Achim von Borries. It would almost appear to be neutral, verging on moral compliance. That is, until they receive word that their son has been killed.
Understandably grief-stricken, Otto begins drafting postcards denouncing Hitler and encouraging people to refuse to let their children serve in the military, to stop donating money and to no longer cooperate with the Nazis. The couple clandestinely leaves these postcards around the city. Their method is one of rather quiet protest, especially since they know most of the cards would be immediately turned in to the Gestapo. Escherich (Daniel Brühl), the officer tasked with tracking down the source of these cards, finds them to be little more than a nuisance. Their continued proliferation is more of a stain on his reputation as an investigator than a danger to the government.
It’s clear that Perez is aiming for an understated homefront suspense here. But the biggest obstacle to Alone in Berlin‘s resonance is its characters. The three central protagonists are all simply going through the motions, without enough background information or insight into their states of mind to fully empathize with them. For the Quangels’ part, the very crucial question of whether their son’s death was a moment of epiphany or a final straw in a growing dislike of the government is never answered. Naturally, we appreciate them as characters finding a way to resist an oppressive regime, but we shouldn’t have to fill in their motivations ourselves. Otto’s decision to distribute the cards is frankly surprising, given his stilted reaction to the news of his son’s death. Escherich largely serves as the generic bad guy throughout, until an SS officer beats him for not finding his perpetrators. His actions in the final scene attempt to make us question his allegiance, but the film fails to provide us with any prior support for such a change of heart.
Things seem to happen in Alone in Berlin because they’re expected to. There is no narrative suspense, and that’s the fault of Perez’s stilted script. Perez is so busy ticking all of the boxes expected of a historic, tragic tale that he neglects to give the film any sense of real emotion. Moments – like the final scene – that should be impactful instead feel contrived, regardless of whether or not they are historically accurate. And while the emotion has been stripped of the script, Perez’s direction doesn’t pick up any of the slack. To convey the sense of dread under Nazi oppression, he chooses to confine the film to dreary colors and an unobtrusive score. Where he could opt for ramping up the paranoia in street shots when the Quangels pass watchful SS officers, Perez is wholly unstimulating – to the point of repeating these disappointingly emotionless scenes until they become monotonous. The Quangels’ fate was never going to be a surprise, but their story shouldn’t be a boring experience.
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