Arts & Entertainment
Out Behind the Wall
a review by Kevin Moss
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A suicidal gay teen; a young man who falls into a relationship with a woman to avoid facing his true feelings; a gay high school teacher terrified of coming out. These people and situations can turn up anywhere, even in Vermont today. What makes Heiner Carow’s treatment of them in Coming Out different is that his film is set in East Berlin before the fall of the Wall. In fact, the film premiered on Nov. 9, 1989, the very day the Wall was opened, which may explain how it got lost in the general tumult that followed. But it shouldn’t have: Coming Out is the first feature film really about gay life from Eastern Europe. It won a Teddy (the gay prize) and a Berlin Festival Silver Bear in 1990.
While homosexuality was decriminalized in the GDR in 1968, East German society remained socially conservative and constrained by the surveillance of the secret police. Yet by the 1980s, there was a fledgling gay movement (harbored, like other dissident social movements in East Germany, by the church) and a number of discreet gay bars. It is the latter and the underground gay world that form the real background for this ground-breaking film.
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In the opening scenes, we meet Matthias, who is rushed to the hospital, where his stomach is pumped after a suicide attempt. The nurse reassures him that being gay is no reason to cry.
Next we meet Philipp, and the first part of the film explores his budding relationship with Tanja, a fellow teacher at the high school. Philipp, played by hunky Matthias Freihof, is awkward, shy, and tentative. Women seem attracted to him both because he’s cute as a button and because he lets them make the first move.
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If you think you know why Philipp’s so tentative, you’re right! When he tells his mother about his new girlfriend, her shock at the news is yet another hint. When he meets a friend of Tanja’s, it’s obvious they’ve met before and have a history, though we don’t find out for sure what kind just yet. “We were…” (long pause) “classmates,” the friend interjects. Phew! Safe for now! But the encounter sends Philipp into a brooding stroll, where he happens in front of a gay bar and is dragged inside.
That’s where the fun begins: in a carnivalesque setting (the costumes remind one of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert crossed with Cabaret), Philipp drinks himself into a stupor to clear up his confusion and meets Matthias (remember him? the suicidal teen who now seems to have resolved his own problems with being gay).
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I won’t spoil the entire plot, but it is both an emotional roller coaster and a tour of gay East Berlin, with real gay bars, cruising areas, and personalities. Look for a cameo appearance by Charlotte von Mahlsdorf, East Germany’s answer to Quentin Crisp (the elder transvestite stars in her own film, Rosa von Praunheim’s I am My Own Woman, 1992). There’s an older man at the end who lost the love of his life when both were arrested by the Nazis and sent to a concentration camp (remember pink triangles?).
The plot has one too many turns for my taste, and some of the twists probably will be lost on the viewer not steeped in Eastern European life, but it’s mostly a good ride. There are some very nice touches: Philipp intervenes to help a black man being beaten by neofascists, but when he encounters another group bashing a fag, he runs away instead. He pushes his poetry students to express their true emotions, but of course can’t do the same himself. Aesthetically, the film captures the gray uniformity of East European urban life, broken only occasionally by the bright window of a gay bar or a visit to the opera.
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Freihof’s acting is right on. He reminds me a bit of James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause: alternately brooding and hysterical, the emotions welling up just under the surface until he cracks. (Freihof is in a new gay film this year: Zur¸ck auf Los, which was in the 2000 Berlin festival.) And the camera loves him — even in the scenes with Tanja, it’s Philipp’s body that is the object of its loving gaze. Though there’s no full frontal nudity, the love scenes between Philipp and Matthias are erotically charged. Even the scenes of cruising, whether in the park, or just the surreptitious look in a diner, are rendered with perfect timing. It’s obvious the director and the actor knew what they were doing — both are gay. Freihof was eager to play the role, since it dealt with issues he had dealt with in his own life.
The plot is not as neatly tied up as Hollywood plots, but in spite of occasional inconsistencies and lapses into maudlin excess, the film is very much worth seeing — both as a coming-out story and as a glimpse into the East European gay scene before the fall of the wall. Rent it on one of those cold gray days in November, curl up with a friend under a blanket, have a shot of vodka, and keep the handkerchiefs nearby.
Kevin Moss is chair of the Russian department at Middlebury College.