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Remember the movieSwing Kids?That jazzy two hour romp about two best friends growing up in Germany who just want to have a good time despite the Nazi occupation? Well, have I got a gem for you. Just take the boyish athletic body of Robert Sean Leonard and replace it with the beerstein physique of a well-fed middle-aged man. Exchange the faceless Gestapo brutes for a surprisingly mild-mannered Herr General. Toss The Duke's sassy “It Don't Mean a Thing if it Ain't Got That Swing" in favor of "Veronica, The Girl Who Gathers Asparagus in the Springtime," and you've got yourself The Harmonists.
Admittedly, this movie is not destined to enthrall pubescent hearts across America asSwing Kidsdid. It's artsy. It has subtitles. It's a period drama. It's about a barbershop sextet. What it does have, however, is authenticity. Ever mindful of the movie industry's devotion to the gritty truth, I nonetheless found The Harmonists to be a valuable film, if for no other reason than its being a sociological treasure.
This true story starts in 1927 when Harry Frommermann, an out of work actor, gets the idea to form a multi-part harmony group, and places an ad in the paper. After a few initial flops, the six-man Comedian Harmonists update their repertoire, adding jazzy syncopation and some naughty lyrics. Their innovations are hilariously documented in one great scene, where they do an improv imitation of a purely instrumental jazz band. They are soon discovered, and become, in effect, The Beatles of Berlin.
Their newfound stardom and opulent lifestyle quickly become complicated, however, when the National Socialists place limitations on what may be performed and by whom. Refusing to compromise their songs or replace their three Jewish members, The Harmonists decide to tour America and hope that the political climate will have changed by their return. While in New York, a few of the members contemplate remaining in the U.S. for their own safety, but it in the end they bravely return to Germany to give their final swan song a la The Sound of Music.
As you could imagine, this is not done with-out a certain degree of dopiness. As their mellifluous voices blend in a final chord, there is--surprise, surprise--not a dry eye left in the concert hall. The audience is, in fact, so overcome by sentimental ecstasies that there is a full ten seconds of silence before they recover enough to surge forward to meet our heroes with rapturous devotion. Likewise, The Harmonists are not above mushy displays of affection, a fact which director Joseph Vilsmaier impresses upon us by repeatedly showing them joining hands in the tedious "All for one, one for all" pose.
Ultimately, it is the six actors that keep The Harmonistsfrom being cast into the outer darkness as just another feel-good movie. The role of Harry is rescued from being a quirky-but-lovable caricature by Ulrich Noethen's sensitivity and well-timed moments of seriousness. The initial reticent demeanor of Robert (Ben Becker), the stout blond baritone, belies his generous spirit. Even Bootz, the surly anti-Semitic pianist, is ambiguous; his character demands to be examined before he can be classified as a villain.
IfThe Harmonistsis to be remembered at all in the years to come, it will be for the fact that it is German-made. It is not often that American audiences get a view of Germany society in the '30s that is multifaceted. Vilsmaier, while acknowledging the horrors and injustices of the Nazi Party, is too thoughtful (or perhaps just too consciously a German citizen) to categorize the regime as universally and blatantly evil. The Party is seen at one point giving The Harmonists special permission to continue their performances despite the recent constrictions. The one riot scene, in which Nazi soldiers begin to chant derisively during the middle of a concert, shows the soldiers being suppressed by a dignified Nazi general, whom they instantly obey. At the movie's end, the Jewish members of the group leave quietly for other European countries and America.
The most redeemable aspect of The Harmonistsis not the movie's sensitive portrayal of characters or its uplifting ending. It is (now prepare yourselves) its authenticity, its un-American-ness. There is no backlighting, no svelte bodies on parade, no '90s-influenced costumes or setting. This by no means implies that the movie does not have its share of glamour; it's just that its style is as dark, European and heavy as Germany in the '30s would have been. Unfortunately, if we follow the inverse proportion of authenticity to box office success, we will realize, of course, that this very merit will condemn The Harmoniststo a life on an obscure shelf in the back of Mr. Movies.
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