Between Duty and Desire

In “Barbara,” a dissident East German doctor must choose between escaping to the West or helping an abused girl. Barbara Wolff (Nina Hoss) is banished to a pediatric hospital in provincial East Germany in 1980. The film opens with Barbara arriving early for her first day of work. Striking, elegant and remote, she gets off the bus, checks her watch and sits on a bench for a smoke. Her new boss, Dr. Andre Reiser (Ronald Zehrfeld) and an East German secret policeman, Klaus Schutz (Rainer Bock) are watching from a window. “She won’t be even one second early,” the Stasi agent says. The story developes, as we find out Barbara has connections, access to money, a West German lover and a plan to get out. But the demands of her work at the hospital intrude, in the form of a young girl, Stella, brought in with meningitis. She has escaped from a youth work camp — what Barbara, in a moment of anger, refers to as a “Socialist extermination camp.” Another complication arises when a young man is brought in. He attempted suicide by drinking an industrial solvent, and he might have an injury that requires brain surgery. Barbara will be needed to deliver the anaesthesia. Which Reiser knows she can do, because “it’s in your file.” And what isn’t in the file? The paranoid security state that was East Germany pervades this movie. The hospital is shabby and cramped. Reiser has put together his “lab,” from bits and pieces scrounged from here and there. Barbara’s apartment is similarly dingy and depressing — and the decor is not improved by the frequent searches by her Stasi minders, who descend whenever she drops off their radar. The film is grainy, too, which adds to the grim atmosphere. Ultimately Barbara must choose between her calling and her freedom. Without divulging the plot, it’s safe to say she splits the difference. The film ends with considerable ambiguity in an abrupt and silent coda. Christian Petzold’s direction is fluent and unobtrusive. He employs a lot of long takes, far more than most American directors. And while you could call this a “Cold War thriller,” there are no explosions, no gadgets, no heroic super secret agents who barge in at the last second to save the day. The tension is largely internal, as the viewer sees the conflict between duty and personal ambition developing and wonders how Barbara will sort it all out. It’s a terrific film — understated, subtle and superbly crafted. I saw it at The Moviehouse’s “screening room,” incidentally, which is a very pleasant spot, with comfortable seats and a “Doctor No” moment when the theater employee presses a button on a remote that lowers both the movie screen and the shades on the windows overlooking Main Street in Millerton.