Edgar Reitz contemplates painting, cinema and the human condition in polished but ponderous Berlinale feature
Can a picture capture the true spirit of a person? Is it possible – and if so, how – to condense the achievements of a lifetime into a strictly limited frame? Is not even the closest reproduction undeniably different from the real thing? These questions are at the core of Edgar Reitz’ enigmatic blend o historical fiction, fact and figure study. The visually and conceptually rich drama asks them both on a narrative and a meta-textual level. When shooting his film, the 92-year-old director is confronted with the same questions that the German 17th century “universal genius” Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (Edgar Selge) muses on while he poses for two decidedly different artists.
Leibniz former student and close friend queen Sophie Charlotte of Prussia (Antonia Bill) misses their intellectual exchange so much she asks her mother Sophie of Hannover (Barbara Sukowa) for his portrait. The first commissioned painter Pierre-Albert Delalandre (Lars Eidinger) is set up to fail. Not only does he bring along a trio of minions, but a selection of pre-finished backdrop-and-silhouette paintings. These templates featuring faceless figures in different outfits serve as historically accurate markers of public façades. Instead of revealing a person’s true self, they force it within a cut-out shape and pre-conceived look. Duchess Sophie is keenly aware of this discrepancy but also of the social constrains and artistic conventions of her time.
Her compromise is expressed in her statement as she chooses one of the backgrounds: “He is it not. But it is worthy of him.” The same could be said for Reitz’ and co-director Anatol Schuster’s cinematic contemplation about what makes a great mind and a great picture on canvas and screen. His vision of the philosopher, played by Selge with dry wit and hidden pain, never goes beyond the idealistic image of endearing eccentricity and enlightenment. His grandfatherly affection for Sophie Charlotte whose frail health is a constant cause for worry, and his kindness towards his assistant Cantor (Michael Kranz) make him flawless to a fault. Supporting roles compound this psychological simplicity.
Cantor is merely there to give others reason to talk. Sophie Charlotte is a physically and psychologically pale variation of the femme fragile. Partly thanks to Eidinger, Delalandre ends up the least artificial among these types and the only one to dispute the famous philosopher. In contrast, the (fictional) Dutch painter Aaltje Van De Meer (Aenne Schwarz) who steps in after Leibniz exasperates Delalandre, mainly exists to be in awe of Leibniz’ genius. Her complicated stance as a woman in a profession and time period ruled by patriarchic bigotry and as someone who adopts a male public persona to avoid discrimination, could have made her the most interesting character.
However, Reitz’ and his co-writer Gert Heidenreich’s idea of Van De Meer is frustratingly paternalistic. It would make sense for her to be aware of respected contemporary women painters such as Rachel Ruysch, Judith Leyster, Giovanna Garzoni or Rosalba Carriera. The writer-duo, however, apparently is not and gives her only male painters as artistic and – in one absurdly unlikely case – actual fathers. This patronising concept of female art as indebted to and literally inseminated by male genius feels as outdated as the verbose script. Timely subjects such as social hierarchy, gender politics and world weariness are grazed but never examined.
Budget constraints forced Reitz to cut down his lavish concept to a chamber piece. Ironically, this locally and visually confined form suits the subject. If Reitz would only engage with his audience rather than lecture it, his latest work could have been as intellectually entertaining as it is aesthetically striking. Eclectic requisites, lush costumes and a chiaroscuro lightening reminiscent Rembrandt and de La Tour, transform DP Matthias Grunsky‘s images into miniature artworks. Fittingly, the acting hints at the poised grandeur of characters who just stepped out of a historical painting. Reitz’ biographical anecdote is as carefully composed and conceptualised as a museum piece – and equally stilted and soulless.
- OT: Leibniz – Chronik eines verschollenen Bildes
- Director: Edgar Reitz
- Screenplay: Edgar Reitz, Gert Heidenreich
- Year: 2025
- Distribution | Production © if… Productions
