Marseille

The city of Marseille holds a special place in the history of literature as well as that of cinema. Its historical role as a harbor during the German occupation of France made it a literal place of transit, a non-place par excellence in which ghosts without identity wait for their next life. The crying seagulls still carry the promise of new worlds but not every building faces the sea, especially not in times of social injustice. For Sophie, the protagonist of Angela Schanelec’s take on the city, it’s a place to be in, to walk through. She looks around (she is a photographer), falls asleep on a bus, talks with a man, gets to know him. In its calm and precise observations, the film shows that Marseille is first and foremost an idea or an image for Sophie, not a reality. Being there, or even being one of the ghosts of our time is not as romantic as it was meant to be. Schanelec’s map of the city follows a path of alienation. The policemen ask Sophie to move on, her French is not good enough, the closer she gets, the more distant it all seems. It’s a drama of disappointment, but also of longing for more. Only back in Berlin does Marseille become alive for Sophie. That’s as tragic as it is comforting. (Patrick Holzapfel)

In the presence of Angela Schanelec.