Kameradschaft

Georg Wilhelm Pabst's film is essentially a propaganda piece - though the ideals being expressed are so undeniably wholesome and positive, that it's difficult to formulate much of a criticism against it.

The plot is as follows. When French miners are trapped under a collapsed mine, their German colleagues cross-over to help them, breaking a few international laws in the process, but, nevertheless, saving the lives of several men who, as is mentioned time and again, "have wives and children" that want to see them return.

Kameradschaft is based on the real 1906 Courrieres mining disaster, although crucial details were changed to better fit the movie's larger themes. For instance, the date of the events was altered to that of the film's release, which is to say, during the aftermath of World War I. Additionally, the location was moved to the Franco-German border - a mining town on each side - so that the frictions between the two nations, and their subsequent unification under the cause of human life, could all be emphasized.

The movie obviously intends to be a parable for the fraternity of all mankind, regardless of nationality. It divides itself in two distinct parts, which could be titled, 'separation' and 'consolidation.' The former section, which comprises a good half of the film, deals with the many ways in which the two neighboring mining groups demarcate their national differences. There's a stellar scene at a French bar, where a German worker become insulted all too easily when a girl kindly refuses his offer to dance. He assumes, with disquieting ease, that he is being discriminated upon based on his country of origin. It's a nice moment, because it demonstrates how volatile tensions truly are - how easy it is for the characters to become defensive at the slightest provocation.

There's also a 'separation' of another kind - not in terms of nationality, but in terms of lifestyle. A young girl decides to leave her mining town, predicting, with foresight, the fragility and ultimate deterioration of the mining life. She will leave for the city, to make something new of herself, and break away from her family's stock. So off she goes, on a train to Paris.

But then, something happens, and she's forced to return to her town, just as she was about to leave. An explosion - the fire that had been brewing for days within the mines, has suddenly broken out, leaving some of her loved ones trapped underground.

Thus begins the latter section, 'consolidation,' or 'unification.' The girl who was about to separate herself from the town, becomes united with it again, as a result of the disaster. And, most importantly, the Germans who so despised the French, now leave in their rescue, motivated by the stirring arguments of one particular worker, a man with a wife and a young kid.

There is a clear juxtaposition, then, between the girl's life, and the relationship between the two nations. In both instances, there's a drifting apart, and then a melding together. It seems like Pabst is getting at the interconnections between personal realities and national realities, and the ways in which both coincide, or are both influenced by the same occasions.

For the rest of the film, we have poignant moments of human fear and bravery - the wife of the particular worker bids him adieu as he goes on his rescue mission; a delirious French miner, upon sighting a German rescue man, suddenly believes he's back in World War I; German miners continuously risk their lives for the sake of others.

It's all certainly moving, although at times, things become altogether much too blunt. Consider the embarrassing zooming close-up of the Frenchman and the German shaking hands - the scene is shouting at you, communicating ideas long since made clear. The same happens with an earlier strip of dialogue, concerning the superiority of German beer. We already know the Germans, at this point in plot, think little of their French counterparts. Was it necessary to reinforce the point?

Kameradschaft also lacks any considerably deep characters - but that is more or less forgivable given the film's intentions to portray the communal, rather than the personal, experience. In this way, then, the film has plenty in common with classics such as Battleship Potemkin, and successors, such as The Battle of Algiers. Though the objectives of each of these works are quite disparate, they all strive to provide a broad perspective, never really limiting their focus to a specific individual for very long. Their shared central character could then be said to be the collective - the movements of the group stand in for the feelings of the singular protagonist that usually dominates a regular film story. Thus, some may find themselves at a lost to care for the happenings on the screen. But others, such as myself, may find much of interest in the combination of the many - the exploration of how multitudes can act upon a single thread of thought or intention.

This film is, to be sure, not as good as either Eisenstein's or Pontercorvo's. It has none of the complexity of the latter, nor the focus of the former, and it's excessively obvious at turns. Yet it still has a taste, an inkling, for scope and size - an understanding of how important a tragedy like this becomes to those who are nearby and who can, therefore, theoretically affect the situation for the better, in some way, however minor. So, whatever its faults, the film remains a success, because the viewer is swept up in the moment - not just in the kinetic sense, where we find ourselves excited, but also in the emotional sense, where we begin to know the consequences of what we're witnessing, comprehending the ripples that the depicted events will have on the characters, and on their milieu.

That is, we begin to perceive the before-and-after repercussions, in all their variety. We don't get stuck in the present day of the narrative. The film's simplicity means that these insights are not exactly profound - but those insights are still there. At any rate, it's enough to make of this film something more than a museum piece. Kameradschaft, as a cinematic artifact, is still alive.