Berlinale: The tears of Lars Eidinger

UAnd then he sits there in the press conference, the supposedly omnipresent Lars Eidinger, who is always terrific above all where he can help a man in the larval stage, between tree and bark, survive. With the help of a sometimes insanely instrumentalized, musical language.

What he does in “Babylon Berlin”, what he does in “Persian Lessons”. One who, like no other, gets his characters out of the speech bag like clubs. That tastes like no other (and like in “Persian Lessons”) words, language, sometimes until you get disgusted with it. And tears come to him.

Not out of touch with yourself. But out of despair that the (German) present, the public, published (German) language is as it is. About the feeling that it could creep in, that alluding to forgetting could have been in vain.

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