Tonight I saw Downfall and I bestow upon it my highest praise: it was a fucking good movie. Compelling viewing, brilliantly acted. It was long but never once did I check the time, and I'll be thinking about it for several days to come. One thing I don't understand is, why did the Nazi soldiers start killing the civilian citizens of Berlin? And I'd also like to know what happened to that little blond boy who held Frau Junge's hand at the end.
I enjoyed hearing the German language for a couple of hours. To me, it sounds like home. I don't understand it when people say it's an unattractive language. Sure, it ain't French, but it's not as guttural as Dutch, either. When I was a kid, I was more German than American. Of course I became Americanized as I got older, as I wanted beyond anything to "fit in." Lately, though, I don't feel very American, to tell you the truth, and I crave going elsewhere. Moving to Germany wouldn't be the answer, of course, because I can't recapture a golden, hazy place that likely never existed. But still. Sometimes I wonder where my happiness lies, and probably the happiest I've been in my life was when we lived in Germany when I was six to nine years old, especially visiting my Oma in Bavaria. I miss her house, which has long since been sold.
posted by Newpeep, N.D. (neurotic depressive) @ 11:46 PM
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