Writer and Director: Natja Brunckhorst
East meets West in this colourful caper set on the eve of German reunification in 1990. Sandra Hüller and Max Riemelt give strong performances as the married couple who devise a plan to teach both Socialism (though the rest of the world called it Communism) and Capitalism a lesson. But this story of grassroots politics is ultimately as thin as a banknote.
When Maren and Robert go urban exploring in the derelict factory that had once provided jobs for the whole of the local community, they find more than they bargained for: bags and bags of money. But there’s a problem: all the cash is in East German currency, which is being phased out and replaced with the West German Mark. The East German Government have stored the dosh in the factory’s bunker. Maren and Robert can only play at being millionaires, even when they hold the never-seen-before 200 and 500 Mark der DDR notes.
However, even the pretence of being rich gives the couple a sense of adventure they’d once experienced a few years earlier. Maren and Robert, along with their old friend, Volker, who, fresh from his return from Hungary, joins them in the heist, were once small-time revolutionaries, dreaming of making it to the West. Maren still itches to get away, while Robert is content to live on the housing estate with his neighbours.
The situation quickly changes when a door-to-door salesman appears at their apartment with a selection of luxury saucepans. He informs the couple that the East German Mark is still legal for businessmen for another three days. Delighted, they buy the pans and ask him to come back with his colleagues. Calling on their neighbours for assistance, soon the whole estate is purchasing household items with the stolen money. These goods will then be shared out among everyone, and the money they make from selling on the microwaves and knife-sets (at an exchange rate of 2:1) will belong to the whole housing project. It’s Socialism in action, a better system than the East German Government ever rolled out.
The film’s title also alludes to the relationship between Maren and the two men in her life, Robert and Volker, with the latter soon finding out he’s the father of her daughter. This subplot feels fairly pedestrian compared to the main narrative, but allows Robert to realise that most of his married life has been founded on a lie. This discovery ties nicely with the film’s final punchline, which comes, subtly, it’s true, when the community discovers what the factory was once manufacturing. East Germans had been living a lie, too.
But this is not to say that this film is pro-Capitalism, far from it. The mercenary West is looked down upon with the same disdain as the East Germans’ skewed version of Socialism. It’s a shame that some of these Big Ideas aren’t examined in more detail, and they are undermined somewhat by the decisions of writer/director Natja Brunckhorst (who played the lead in 1981’s cult film Christaine F.) to turn the film into a light-hearted adventure with echoes of Ealing comedies. The score doesn’t help either; quite quickly, the jaunty tunes become annoying. Better are the bluegrassy labour songs sung by the likes of Canadian band The Dead South.
Martin Langer’s cinematography places a 1970s sheen of yellow and red upon the 90s; the sunlight shines strong and nostalgic on a community not yet torn apart by Neoliberalism. Loosely based on true stories, Two To One nevertheless seems based on an impossible utopia.
Two To One will be in UK Cinemas from 2nd May.
