I was in a pretty awful mood today, and I lazed around the house reading Ann Rule (uh, yes I am currently paying back my loans for my English literature major, why do you ask?) instead of watching my film. I finally got myself to sit down and watch it, and I'm so glad I did. I watched
Wings Of Desire (the German title is
The Sky over Berlin), directed in 1987 by Wim Wenders. I didn't really do anything other than mash buttons on my remote before watching it, so I had no idea what it was about going into it. I'm sort of glad that I didn't, personally - the plot, what little there was, was borrowed from heavily for the Hollywood film
City of Angels. Yunno, with Nicholas Cage and Meg Ryan or something. I didn't see it, and it makes me feel tired to even think about it. Since
Wings of Desire is slow and moody, there isn't much plot, so all plot summaries sound like
City of Angels. Please do not confuses these movies and see what I presume is a bad Nic Cage film instead.
Wings of Desire made my mood...better. It was pensive and rambling enough to fit my state of mind, but somehow optimistic and uplifting enough to make me feel better. It really worked for me, and I felt...touched by it, I guess. I loved everything, from the vague plot to the striking cinematography - but most of all I loved the dialogue, which was, in essence, simply poetry spoken by the characters. It also had Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds. This movie was made for me to love, apparently.
