The Incredibly Powerful "The Lives of Others"

Movies about loneliness; about people looking in on someone else's life and wishing it were theirs; that help you understand the inner thoughts of those you might not think about twice, who quietly lurk in the shadows, or appear to be monsters to the outside world; these are the movies I often find most powerful.

And the German movie, "The Lives of Others," was an exception, even for this standard. The subtle foreshadowing, the contemplation of what it means to be an artist, the suffocating atmosphere of East Germany before the Berlin Wall fell, and the life of one incredibly caged and sad man, all combine to make for an unforgettable movie.

Maybe I love these types of movies - Pedro Almodovar's "Talk to Her," also comes to mind - because the characters are such a departure from my own personality; I'm not someone who lives in my own head - I need the company of others, just as much as these characters long for it. Or maybe it's the expression of the same common need among all humans - for touch, for conversation, for comfort and for a meaningful relationship. And the very different ways we go about interacting - or trying to interact - with each other.

The quiet, thoughtful, even painfully shy, main characters often live lives of yearning and desperation, trying to understand and make sense of the world around them that they, for some reason, can't seem to become a part of. They want to connect with people, but they don't know how, and it's excruciating to watch, all the moreso because the absence of this feeling is so sorely missed, if even for a day or two, when I'm by myself; I can't imagine never experiencing the closeness of friends, family or a spouse.

How true, then, Thoreau's observation: "The mass of men lead lives of quiet desperation." The movie eloquently does this notion justice.