QUICK AND DIRTY: LIVE FROM BERLIN

Can a picture capture the true spirit of a person? Is it possible – and if so, how – to condense the achievements of a lifetime into a strictly limited frame? Isn’t even the closest reproduction different in essence from the real thing? These questions are at the core of Edgar Reitz’ enigmatic blend of historical drama, fiction and character study. The visually and conceptually rich drama asks them both on a narrative and a meta-textual level. The 92-year-old director is confronted with the same questions as his protagonist, 17th century polymath Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (Edgar Selge) – just as the latter poses for two very different artists.

Leibniz former student and close friend queen Sophie Charlotte of Prussia (Antonia Bill) misses their intellectual exchange so much she asks her mother Sophie of Hannover (Barbara Sukowa) for his portrait. The first commissioned painter Pierre-Albert Delalandre (Lars Eidinger) is set up to fail. Not only does he bring along a trio of useless stooges, but a selection of pre-finished backdrop-and-silhouette paintings. These templates featuring faceless figures in different outfits serve as historically accurate markers of public façades. Instead of revealing a person’s true self, they force it within a cut-out shape and pre-conceived look. Duchess Sophie is keenly aware of this discrepancy but also of the social constrains and artistic conventions of her time.

Her compromise is expressed in her statement as she chooses one of the backgrounds: “He is it not. But it is worthy of him”. The same could be said of Reitz and Schuster for Reitz’s vision of the what makes a great philosopher. The directors never go beyond the idealistic image of endearing eccentricity and enlightenment. His grandfatherly affection for Sophie Charlotte whose frail health is a constant cause for worry, and his kindness towards his assistant Cantor (Michael Kranz) make him flawless to a fault. Supporting roles compound this psychological simplicity.

Cantor is merely there to give others reason to talk. Sophie Charlotte is a pale variation of the femme fragile. Partly thanks to Eidinger, Delalandre is the least artificial of the types, and the only one brave enough o challenge the famous philosopher. In contrast, fictional Dutch painter Aaltje Van De Meer (Aenne Schwarz) exists merely for revering Leibniz’ genius. Her complicated stance as a woman in a profession and time period ruled by patriarchic bigotry, plus someone who adopts a male public persona in ordser to avoid discrimination, could have made her the most interesting character. Reitz’ and co-writer Gert Heidenreich’s idea of Van De Meer is frustratingly paternalistic. It would make sense for the female character to be aware of respected contemporary women painters such as Rachel Ruysch, Judith Leyster, Giovanna Garzoni or Rosalba Carriera. The concept of female art as indebted to the male genius is as outdated as the verbose script. Timely subjects such as social hierarchy, gender politics and world weariness are quickly brushed over, but never examined in more detail.

Budget constraints forced Reitz to cut down his lavish original concept and create a chamber piece instead. Ironically, this confined format suits the subject. If Reitz would only engage with his audience rather than lecture it, his latest work could have been as intellectually entertaining as it is aesthetically striking. Eclectic requisites, lush costumes and a chiaroscuro lightening reminiscent Rembrandt and de La Tour, transform DP Matthias Grunsky‘s images into miniature artworks. Fittingly, the acting hints at the poised grandeur of characters who just stepped out of a historical painting.

Reitz’ biographical anecdote is as schematically conceptualised as a museum piece. Perhaps precisely for that reason, it’s a little stilted and soulless.

Leibniz – Chronicle of a Lost Painting just premiered in the Berlinale Special section of the 75th Berlin International Film Festival.