“A beautiful, poignant and sublime work of cinematic artistry.”
“What I don’t know, I can paint”
Edgar Reitz has always had a fascination with history and the role art plays in defining society at different points in the past. There is a moment in his most recent offering where a man sits for his portrait in a stately royal manor, and he asks the artist on the other side of the canvas why he has chosen this as his profession. The response is quite simple, stating that he is “rescuing mortals from oblivion”. A subtle but meaningful sentiment that quickly escalates into one of the many heated debates about the nature of existence that occur throughout Leibniz – Chronicle of a Lost Painting, a film that leaps into the past and explores a very particular historical moment. The subject is Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz, a philosopher, writer and academic who served as beloved Court Counsellor to Queen Sophia Charlotte of Hanover, who was particularly fond of his intelligence and ability to find meaning in just about every situation. This led her to commission a portrait of the man she dearly respected, in the hopes that committing his visage to a canvas would allow him to remain eternal. At first, it is Pierre-Albert Delalandre who is commissioned to paint the portrait, and whose talent does not outweigh his arrogance; he is soon replaced by Aaltje van der Meer, who is well aware of her position as a female painter in a society driven almost entirely by patriarchal values. She proves to be a perfect match for Leibniz, who finds an unexpectedly kindred spirit in the thoughtful young woman who shares his fascination with questioning reality, the pair forming a friendship that Reitz and co-director Anatol Schuster explore extensively throughout this stunning, provocative historical drama that captures the past and the people who reside within it in vivid, unforgettable detail.
One should not be mistaken when venturing into Leibniz, which presents itself as a historical drama but where the boundaries between fact and fiction are deliberately blurred. With the exception of the titular character and the royals who he served, there is very little information about several of the key players, which seems to play into the directors’ intention to tell a story that has its roots in history, but by presenting it through a fictionalized lens. The purpose of this film is not to be a whistle-stop tour through the life and times of Leibniz or a statement on the political and social atmosphere of Prussia in the early years of the 18th century. Rather, it aims to be a vibrant examination of the human soul as filtered through a series of conversations between the titular philosopher and various other characters that weave in and out of the film, imparting their knowledge and expressing their existential curiosities, creating a rich and captivating depiction of a number of complex ideas. Reitz is aware of the weighty subject matter and endeavors to find ways around the denser theoretical components, which are vital to the narrative in terms of providing context but would be too bulky had the entire film hinged on these more intense, detailed academic provocations. The director lays his intentions bare throughout while still keeping some elements concealed at first, gradually revealing them when a specific moment calls for further insights. It all coalesces around the discussion on the process of creation, with the director making some bold comparisons between art over the years as a means to examine his own relationship with creativity and the process of using art as a way to capture those elusive thoughts that mere words can never quite do justice.
Leibniz may be a superbly engaging examination of the process of expressing one’s innermost quandaries through art. Still, there are additional elements that constitute this film and make it such a fascinating exploration of these varying themes. At its core, the film is a precise, detailed character study in which the actors deliver exceptional performances as these complex characters – Edgar Selge and Aenne Schwarz anchor the film as the titular philosopher and the artist commissioned to paint his portrait, respectively, starting out in fierce opposition to one another and finding common ground once they realize that there are many similarities that bind them together. Very rarely do we find a film that manages to be so extraordinarily compelling when the vast majority of scenes consist of two actors in a studio debating the nature of reality and plumbing the emotional depths of the human soul. It is their spirited and complex performances that provide the necessary nuance needed to make this premise exceptionally intriguing and undeniably moving. They’re supported by the likes of Lars Eidinger, whose shrill, petulant Delalandre is a highlight, and the legendary Barbara Sukowa, who adds layers of gravitas. The film benefits immensely from her quietly compassionate portrayal of Sophia, the Electress of Hanover that acts as the catalyst for the film’s central premise. The performances are quite subtle (although there are a few moments where the actors take some bold risks in terms of their approach to characterization, especially as the film is not entirely committed to authenticity and historical accuracy overall and gives the actors some degree of free rein to develop these parts), but they all represent something much deeper in terms of the philosophical underpinnings that pulsate throughout the film.
Binding this film together, in addition to the spirited performances, is a unique and captivating visual and tonal aesthetic that contributes to the general conversation around the role of art in capturing the past. Reitz has consistently shown precise attention to detail when constructing his films, and Leibniz is certainly not an exception, being one of his most visually arresting works to date. The entire film is enshrouded in a dreamlike, hypnotic aesthetic that immediately separates it from the rigid, dull period pieces we may anticipate based on a cursory glance at the premise, and which proves that giving the benefit of the doubt to a filmmaker committed to examining history is always the most appropriate method of entering such a film. The attention to detail is immediately notable, with production design and costuming precise right down to the smallest, most nuanced feature in the continuous endeavour to capture the spirit of the past. Reitz works closely with his collaborators on both sides of the camera to evoke this period, handcrafting a film that doesn’t convey the sense of being a mere attempt to make a historical drama but rather a series of voyeuristic glimpses into the personal conversations between these people, a vivid document plucked from the past and in which we are able to make some fascinating observations from a distance. Several additional elements enrich the film – the titular portrait is never seen by the audience, creating a sense of mystery and indicating that there is much more to this film than just the story of a painting being created. The atmosphere of the film, which oscillates between intellectual musings and melodramatic reflections (punctuated by subtle touches of humour throughout), ensures that the film is consistently enthralling and deeply compelling, even when engaging in slightly more challenging conversations that form its theoretical foundations.
Leibniz is the very definition of a late-period masterpiece in that it finds a legendary filmmaker reflecting on his relationship with art in the form of a well-crafted, fascinating character study in which he examines the deepest crevices of the human mind and our understanding of the world that surrounds us. While it may not be the sprawling historical epic that we found in Heimat (the work for which he will always be known), Reitz still commits wholeheartedly to challenging certain concepts and using them as the foundation for this vigorous, engaging period drama that is as provocative in concept as it is stunning in execution. It consistently straddles the line between tradition and innovation and is consistently seeking out ways to represent the underlying themes in a manner that is both entertaining and informative without becoming too restricted by its historical basis, which Reitz is careful not to rely on as he ventures through a number of challenging topics. Rather than being a stuffy period drama in which great actors are placed in beautiful costumes and told to do their best to recreate the past, Leibniz functions as a dynamic, engaging character study that addresses a range of complex ideas, each one gingerly placed throughout the film and brought to life with an elusive complexity that keeps us wholeheartedly engaged and enthused. A technical, narrative and philosophical achievement in which Reitz cobbles together a series of philosophical musings about the nature of art, done in an attempt to capture the spirit of existence through pondering many challenging themes. A beautiful, poignant and sublime work of cinematic artistry that consolidates Reitz as one of our greatest and most essential visionaries.
Image copyright: Ella Knorz