|
Alphabetic Index
|
Ratings Index
|
Web Resources
|
Alphabetic Index
|
Ratings Index
|
Web Resources
New to this seemingly undisciplined arm of the German armada is Lieutenant Werner (Herbert Grönemeyer), a war correspondent along for the trip. As they slide from the dock on a bright, clear day, Werner imagines that he will be cataloguing the victories of heroes. What he doesn't expect is the tedium. Day after day they continue, never quite close enough to a convoy for engagement. The Chief Engineer (Klaus Wennemann) keeps the submarine running true, the 1st Lieutenant (Hubertus Bengsch) strives to live up to the ideals of the Third Reich and Johann (Erwin Leder) busies himself with the diesel engines, his children. It's up to the 2nd Lieutenant (Martin Semmelrogge) to provide a slice of levity, mostly at the expense of his immediate superior. Even he begins to flag after several weeks though.
In Das Boot Petersen has created that rarest of movies -- one which is sympathetic to the German forces of WWII without making them out to be either buffoons or double agents. In a tin can smaller than some people's houses, Petersen weaves ordinary stories into the larger pattern of the Atlantic battleground. This is, of course, why Petersen succeeds in making us care for his characters; they aren't faceless Nazi's but men who, in another time and place, could be you or I. In aiming for this memorable veracity, however, Petersen doesn't fall into the documentary trap. While Das Boot is exquisite in its detailing of the boredom of warfare, it's also a captivating and emotional story. Beyond the technical strengths of the film, it's the sailors that make Das Boot special.
Adapting Lothar G. Buchheim's novel, Petersen captures every angle of what turned out to be a futile conflict. By some bizarre quirk of logic, the German High Command decided that twelve U-boats could patrol the entire North Atlantic and prevent critical supplies reaching Britain. When you witness the conditions under which Prochnow must lead, this supposition becomes farcical. Hampered by the weather, communications, an inexperienced crew and canny destroyers, Prochnow remains a pillar of stability. It's a quite astounding performance. His demeanour speaks of fatigue, courage, frustration, strength and conflict (past, present and future). Yet when Prochnow gets the chance to do what he does best, which is out-think and destroy the enemy, sparks leap in his eyes. Grönemeyer gives just as fine an interpretation, flying a flag of callow naivety before fear brings a painful maturity. While he loses an honest belief in the Navy's superiority, Grönemeyer's hard-won understanding is far more affecting.
As for the rest of the cast, Petersen allows them to shine both individually and as an ensemble. The dynamics that spring up between the characters are wholly believable, making us care for the crew of U-96 and their families. A part of the trust that we invest in Das Boot arises from its design and production values. The set constructed by Rolf Zehetbauer and Götz Weidner is extraordinary both in its grimy detail and cumulative impact. As the crew rush from stern to bow, or are tossed aside by a vertiginous roll, we see everything: stashed torpedoes, cooking food, sweaty bunks and the cramped control room. Complemented by the dirty and frayed costumes of Monika Bauert, Das Boot looks something like hell. Ghastly red and blue bulbs cast shadows across worried faces, picking out the beads of sweat gathering on many a brow. Jost Vacano's dynamic photography demands credit.
A discussion of Das Boot's technical excellence would hardly be complete without one element though -- the crucial use of sound. Unlike most war films, the enemy is rarely glimpsed when you're hiding beneath the waves. Thus the crew, and we along with them, must rely on the thrashing wash of a destroyer's propellers, the eerie ping of Asdic and (ultimately) the roar of depth charges to place the foe. Petersen understands this total reliance on a single sense, tuning his soundtrack to highlight the creaks of a groaning hull, the shrieks of rivet release and the low murmur of the deathly afraid. Kneaded into this din is Klaus Doldinger's score, with its distinctive and driving theme. The two (sound effects and music) sit well together in Das Boot.
Given that Das Boot is tragically superb in all areas, the only remaining question is over which version to watch. Ignoring the mini-series, the choice is between the original and the director's cut versions. Taking the latter first, it's a long but not over-long drama that gives equal weight to action and inaction. If there's a drawback it's that this edit demands a lot of concentration. The former, substantially shorter, cut moves rather more quickly between events, skipping much of the banter which gives Das Boot its unique flavour. It's a fine film but lacking the depth of Petersen's preferred print.
|
Alphabetic Index
|
Ratings Index
|
Web Resources