Berlin, I Love You is the fourth installment of the so-called “Cities of Love” franchise that kicked off with Paris, je t’aime and continued with New York, I Love You and Rio, Eu Te Amo. This appears to be the first one that doesn’t have a title in the native language of the city in which it takes place – an odd thing to notice, perhaps, but one that rang warning bells in my head that ended up being all too prescient.
For Berlin, I Love You is a disappointing film that has very little to do with the Berlin that I and so many others know and love.
Wo ist Berlin?
The biggest issue with Berlin, I Love You – an anthology film that purports to be a love letter to the city, told through ten loosely interconnected stories – is that one doesn’t actually see much of the German capital or feel much of its influence throughout the film. The various segments mostly feel as though they could have taken place in any other big city in the world; there is little that makes them feel uniquely Berlin, none of that inherently rebellious, intensely effervescent energy that has enabled this city to survive literally centuries of trauma. When the film does attempt to paint a picture of Berlin, it does so with the broadest and sloppiest of brushstrokes. Every single stereotype that one has ever associated with Berlin is presented with absolutely no subtlety – Sex! Drugs! The Berlin Wall! – not helped at all by some laughably bad dialogue.
One segment involving a group of four women who come together in a Berlin laundromat starts promising as the women banter and debate, but it immediately goes off the rails thanks to the introduction of a Harvey Weinstein-esque character who is so cartoonishly piggish that one is more amused than disgusted by him. Another segment involving an Israeli singer-songwriter who comes to Berlin to visit the house where her Jewish grandmother lived before she fled the Nazis is so heavy-handed that I found myself groaning out loud. Both of these segments deal with important issues – misogyny, the legacy of Nazism – but handle them so poorly that they verge on being disrespectful. In one of the most woefully misguided segments, a sleazy older man (Mickey Rourke) attempts to seduce a beautiful, younger woman (Toni Garrn). Drugs are involved. It’s written by Neil LaBute, which means it’s shallow and sexist but thinks it’s saying something deep, which makes it worse.
Yet the worst offender is actually the segment with the best pedigree: Keira Knightley portrays an aid worker who brings a young refugee home for the night from the shelter where she works, much to the chagrin of her mother, portrayed by Helen Mirren. The refugee crisis has led to violent, vitriolic debate about the place of perceived foreigners in German society; it makes sense that one would want to touch on that when telling a story set in modern Berlin. But to present such a storyline through the eyes of two British women seems absurd and undermines any reason for setting the story in Berlin. A German aid worker bringing home a child to a parent politically opposed to welcoming refugees to Germany could have said a great deal about what is one of the most important cultural debates in the country; instead, I found myself wondering what the point of it all was.
Süß und Sauer
Better is a short but sweet segment involving a teenage boy who encounters a drag queen in the early hours of the morning and asks for a kiss for his birthday so he can see what it feels like to kiss a man. It’s a quiet little story that emphasizes the welcoming, anything-goes attitude inherent in Berliners without forcing it down your throat. Yet even this segment isn’t without issues, mainly in that the drag queen is portrayed by Diego Luna – a lovely actor, to be sure, but the story would have felt so much more authentic if his character had not been portrayed by a heterosexual man.
Also sweet is another simple two-hander starring Luke Wilson as an actor adrift in Berlin who finds himself inspired by a beautiful young puppeteer, Katarina, played by Dianna Agron (who also directs the segment). Having recently arrived in the city from Amsterdam to make a new start after fleeing a bad marriage, Katarina muses that Berlin is a city that knows all about rebirth. It’s a deceptively simple statement that perfectly summarizes why Berlin is one of the most beloved cities in the world despite its troubled legacy. Indeed, Katarina provides keener insight into what makes Berlin unique with one line of dialogue than the rest of the film manages to do in close to two hours.
Berlin, I Love You: Conclusion
A haphazard concoction of cliches with a sugary sweet coating, Berlin, I Love You lacks any of the qualities that make the titular city so special. Perhaps the “Cities of Love” franchise should take a rest before embarking on further travels.
What do you think? Does Berlin, I Love You sound like an accurate depiction of the city? Where would you like to see the “Cities of Love” franchise go next? Share your thoughts in the comments below.
Berlin, I Love You is released in the U.S. on February 8, 2019. You can find more international release dates here.
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