Phoenix is a movie with a simple yet exquisite plot-perfect for storytelling. A Holocaust survivor named Nelly, who was so disfigured that she had to have facial reconstruction surgery, returns to Berlin in the aftermath of the war. She doesn't recognize herself, and designs to find out if others have the same predicament. Nelly's desire is to find her husband Johnny, who may have betrayed her to the Nazis; but, it is more than just a detective story. It tactfully makes grand statements about what occurs in a society post-tragedy.
Phoenix is the name of a club where she happens upon her former lover. If there romance had been uninterrupted, it could be a place where she sang while he played the piano. Now, when she approaches him, Johnny appears to not recognize Nelly, yet he comes up with a use for her. He makes a deal with his "newfound" acquaintance to obtain his wife's sizable inheritance. He will teach her to impersonate his wife, and they will split the money. Nelly agrees to the plan.
When Nelly tells her survivor friend, Lene, what she has been up to, she is understandably horrified. She had no such reaction to Nelly's physical appearance at any time, but the idea to her that she is in a way back with her husband greatly upsets her. As the audience, our immediate reaction is to side with Lene, and see Nelly as the fragile one; however, the movie brilliantly turns preconceived notions we would have on its head.
The central question is not did Johnny do it, but can love survive such tragic circumstances. When he talks about his former wife in instructing his new partner, it is evident that he stills feels for her; and, by the turmoil Nelly puts herself through, it is evident that she still feels for him. But, can such feelings overcome what one lover has possibly done to another? Can love exist in a world shaped by the Nazis?
At one point, Nelly says, "I no longer exist." It is this concept she expresses that permeates the movie. We think of the victims of tragedy as having been shaped most by it, but the movie argues that it is not them that are principally changed so much as those who were "forced" to participate in crime. Nelly does exist, but it is a truth that society refuses to face. Johnny, and others we come across, have been transformed by their participation. He is more of a tragic character than she is.
Lene is actually less strong than Nelly. Nelly searches for what still is, while she is stuck in the past. We come to learn that Nelly is the truly fearless person. She seeks to go on, but before she does that, she must find out where she fits.
Phoenix not only works because it's carefully constructed, but also because the two central actors are great, which it requires. Nina Hoss as Nelly and Ronan Zehrfeld as Johnny deliver two of the best performances of the year. Without them, the story would seem like a fantasy.
Nelly reminds me of Holocaust victims I have seen speak. She is not hateful; she is simply incessant that we come to the truth. Survivors are very grateful for the attention, and desire more than anything to have their story exist in our world. They want us to not turn our heads away, but to learn, so that such horrors do not reoccur. Our realization is how they can heal.
Phoenix is the name of a club where she happens upon her former lover. If there romance had been uninterrupted, it could be a place where she sang while he played the piano. Now, when she approaches him, Johnny appears to not recognize Nelly, yet he comes up with a use for her. He makes a deal with his "newfound" acquaintance to obtain his wife's sizable inheritance. He will teach her to impersonate his wife, and they will split the money. Nelly agrees to the plan.
When Nelly tells her survivor friend, Lene, what she has been up to, she is understandably horrified. She had no such reaction to Nelly's physical appearance at any time, but the idea to her that she is in a way back with her husband greatly upsets her. As the audience, our immediate reaction is to side with Lene, and see Nelly as the fragile one; however, the movie brilliantly turns preconceived notions we would have on its head.
The central question is not did Johnny do it, but can love survive such tragic circumstances. When he talks about his former wife in instructing his new partner, it is evident that he stills feels for her; and, by the turmoil Nelly puts herself through, it is evident that she still feels for him. But, can such feelings overcome what one lover has possibly done to another? Can love exist in a world shaped by the Nazis?
At one point, Nelly says, "I no longer exist." It is this concept she expresses that permeates the movie. We think of the victims of tragedy as having been shaped most by it, but the movie argues that it is not them that are principally changed so much as those who were "forced" to participate in crime. Nelly does exist, but it is a truth that society refuses to face. Johnny, and others we come across, have been transformed by their participation. He is more of a tragic character than she is.
Lene is actually less strong than Nelly. Nelly searches for what still is, while she is stuck in the past. We come to learn that Nelly is the truly fearless person. She seeks to go on, but before she does that, she must find out where she fits.
Phoenix not only works because it's carefully constructed, but also because the two central actors are great, which it requires. Nina Hoss as Nelly and Ronan Zehrfeld as Johnny deliver two of the best performances of the year. Without them, the story would seem like a fantasy.
Nelly reminds me of Holocaust victims I have seen speak. She is not hateful; she is simply incessant that we come to the truth. Survivors are very grateful for the attention, and desire more than anything to have their story exist in our world. They want us to not turn our heads away, but to learn, so that such horrors do not reoccur. Our realization is how they can heal.
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