A photographer who loses her sight commissions a friend to describe what he sees. He wanders the city to reclaim her lost impressions but cannot connect her to the world of color and form, a world of which she has long since taken her last existential photograph.
A young composer discovers that his girlfriend has been having an affair with his friend and competitor. A sleepless stalker roams the Berlin night, burdened with the insurmountable sensation that he himself is being watched. Paul Brodowsky writes of the pivotal moments in relationships, describing the disillusionment preceding doubt and decision. His characters wander the night to explain their pasts, making fleeting contact in the subway, searching out their secrets only to lose themselves in the unknown. They lose consciousness and gain access to their obsessions, interchanging memory and projection, perception and delusion.
Like a collection of Polaroids, Paul Brodowsky creates a mosaic of his character's trajectories, each defining the other, all succumbing to the same great torrent.
His father, born in 1933, only talks about the Nazi era when Paul asks him about it. About the National Political Institute of Education, the Napola, about the Jewish furrier at the market and about his uncle. Uncle Paul, after whom the son is named and who was a district manager for the NSDAP. The son, born in 1980 as the youngest of eight children, finds only a slim file in the Federal...