For many cinephiles, the notion of an Americanized remake of Wim Wenders' haunting
film about an angel that aspires to become human, Wings of Desire, is nothing short
of blasphemous. Although some may debate whether Wenders' film is indeed great, few
would disagree with the assessment that Wings of Desire is a work imbued with a sense
of greatness. Its lush black-and-white images of angels watching over us everywhere,
consoling a troubled humanity, is indelibly comforting, one of the closest things
to poetry ever achieved on film. So, the question is: Is City of Angels a faithful
reworking of Wings of Desire, or a misguided bastardization of it? Unfortunately,
it's more of the latter. While the storyline is more or less the same -- witnessing
the mysteries of the human race, a celestial spirit yearns for mortal experience
-- the emphasis in City of Angels is more on simple romance than lofty questions of
eternity. Set in Los Angeles rather than Berlin, the film's first half appropriates
a few of the visual and aural concepts of Wenders' work, although the sight of angels
resting on a freeway exit sign, as opposed to perched atop the Reichstag eagle, is
a less arresting one. But eventually, rather than ponder philosophical issues to
which there are no easy answers, it takes a familiar story of self-sacrifice and
gives it a high concept spin: Angel gives up his ethereal existence to be with the
woman he loves. While you can argue that Wenders' film is too talky and ponderous,
there's the sense that City of Angels trivializes its predecessor's themes, particularly
in the way that the love story traditionally plays. You know the drill; it's as old
as the Greeks: Angel meets girl, angel loses girl, angel gets girl, tragedy ensues.
Maybe it's the unshakable memory of his performances in movies such as Moonstruck,
Raising Arizona, and Face/Off, but Cage's attempts to register a beatific saintliness
here is often spooky. The first physical meeting between Cage's Seth and the object
of his desire, the heart surgeon Maggie, occurs in a hospital hallway after visiting
hours. Wearing a long black overcoat, speaking in a hoarse whisper of a voice, and
making little to no sense in his conversation, this modern-day Gabriel looks and
acts more like a deranged stalker than a heavenly being -- how is that she trusts
him, finds herself so mysteriously drawn to him? Any sane person would have called
Security immediately. But even if you accept this plot contrivance, the consummation
of this union of souls isn't very emotionally involving -- it lacks that transcendence
you associate with stories in which love knows no bounds. Watching this film disintegrate
into something close to being hackneyed, you ultimately wish that Seth had never
chosen to fall to earth to take human form. It's a tumble from which City of Angels
never fully recovers.
2.0 stars
--Steve Davis
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