Curiously, Emmi and Ali find some common conversation topics as they step stiffly to the beat of the jukebox. Since it's late, Ali decides that he should walk Emmi home, to the amazed stares of the other patrons. While Emmi does most of the talking, it seems that they are soul-mates. Emmi has been by herself for many years, following the death of her Polish husband and movements of her children, while Ali is lonesome as only a stranger in a strange land can be. Thus it's no surprise when Emmi invites Ali inside for coffee, shyly complimented that anyone of his age would take an interest in her. That they wind up sharing a bed, seeking solace in each others presence, is merely a natural progression.
However, the morning after brings questions which are difficult to put into words. Ali really appears to like Emmi, with no ulterior motives, but it's still difficult for her to come to terms with such unexpected happiness. Anyway, when she does, there's easily enough blind hatred of their mixed relationship from others to dampen her spirits. Ali is accustomed to being treated as a non-person in Germany but to Emmi, the stares, whispers and intolerance are something new. Thankfully their love is strong, based upon mutual respect, though when Emmi's children violently shun her, the long-term prognosis looks poor.
Fear Eats the Soul is an unusual viewing experience because it succeeds in being emotionally moving without explicitly showing how it achieves this. The usual emotional hooks (seen in a multitude of tear-jerkers) are absent, replaced instead by a form of transparency which allows the characters to communicate naturally. A great deal is done with pregnant pauses and body language, subconscious indicators of people's inner feelings. Thus, when any action occurs, its effect is heightened.
Fassbinder's grip on the technical aspects of Fear Eats the Soul is equally impressive, a admixture of rigidity and fluidity. The framing of every scene is precisely controlled, with physical structures used to suggest links between (or the isolation of) particular characters. A fine example of this occurs when Emmi and Ali celebrate in a fancy restaurant, with the couple hemmed inside a doorway and plainly out-of-place. An interesting addition is the clever use of reflective surfaces, with the mirror-images providing another side of someone's personality or another take on the scene. While much of the film is shot from a static camera, the moments when the viewpoint is panned are doubly important. At these times, Fassbinder opens up groups, building upon the reaction of each individual to construct a crushing whole - the fruit of a "less is more" approach.
While the theme of racial prejudice is central and handled without dilution of its destructive potential, Fassbinder places a certain amount of spin. At first Emmi is utterly sympathetic towards and supportive of Ali, even when all of her friends and relations show their true colours, yet an ironic turn-around occurs mid-way through the film. Just as everyone else realises that pragmatism outweighs intolerance, Emmi begins to act the bigot herself. It appears that an inter-racial marriage is so fragile that if external forces are not trying to destroy it, then internal ones will take up the divisive slack.
The only area in which Fear Eats the Soul stumbles is in the overstated hatred of almost everyone known to Emmi. While her viewpoint would be more sensitive to such persecution than Ali's, a little more subtlety would have made the later transition less abrupt (though Mira and Salem so as well as they can). An additional point is that, on this print, the subtitles were appalling, composed of a sort of broken English which made some lines incomprehensible (this may not apply to all versions but it's a point to watch out for).