The Lives of Others 2006

In the midst of 1984 East Germany’s rigid conformity, Hauptmann Gerd Wiesler, code-named HGW XX/7, is dispatched by his superior, Lt. Col. Anton Grubitz, to infiltrate the seemingly spotless world of playwright Georg Dreyman (Jr.). As a friend and colleague of Grubitz, Wiesler’s task is to monitor Dreyman’s activities, despite the playwright’s exemplary record of loyalty and patriotism. The Stasi Hauptmann is perplexed by Dreyman’s wholesome appearance, which belies any hint of scandal or disloyalty. At the behest of Minister of Culture Bruno Hempf, Wiesler and his team meticulously bug Dreyman’s apartment, deploy surveillance equipment, and report on every move the playwright makes. What they discover is a far cry from what they expected - Dreyman’s activities are not driven by dissent or disloyalty, but rather a romantic interest in actress Christa-Maria Sieland, who has caught Hempf’s eye.

As Wiesler delves deeper into Dreyman’s life, he becomes disillusioned with the true motives behind the surveillance. His efforts to uncover the truth inadvertently lead to the discovery of Hempf’s illicit affair with Sieland, prompting Dreyman to implore her to remain faithful to herself and reject the Minister’s advances. Sieland eventually reconciles with Dreyman, but not before Wiesler is left to ponder the morality of his actions.

The seeds of rebellion are sown when Dreyman’s friend Albert Jerska, a blacklisted theatrical director, shares sheet music for Sonate vom Guten Menschen (Sonata for a Good Man) with him. Tragedy strikes when Jerska takes his own life, prompting Dreyman to realize that the GDR has been concealing its suicide rates since 1977. This realization sparks Dreyman’s determination to expose the truth in Western media.

In an effort to determine whether his apartment is bugged, Dreyman and his associates feign a defection attempt. Wiesler, who has grown sympathetic to their plight, chooses not to report it, allowing them to believe they have successfully evaded detection. However, the East German authorities are not so easily fooled.

To evade the Stasi’s scrutiny, an editor of prominent West German newsweekly Der Spiegel smuggles Dreyman a Groma Büromaschinen Kolibri, an ultra-flat typewriter with only a red ribbon to identify it. The playwright hides it beneath his floorboards, where it remains until he is ready to strike back against the authorities.

Dreyman’s anonymous article in Der Spiegel accuses the state of concealing its elevated suicide rates, sparking outrage among the East German authorities. Despite their best efforts, the Stasi cannot link the article to a registered typewriter, allowing Dreyman to maintain his anonymity.

As the Stasi agents storm Dreyman’s apartment once more, Sieland’s betrayal becomes apparent to him, and she flees into the streets in a desperate attempt to escape the consequences of her actions. However, fate is cruel, and she meets an untimely demise beneath the wheels of a speeding truck. Dreyman’s grief-stricken dash through the streets culminates in his cradling Sieland’s lifeless body in his arms, a poignant reminder of the devastating toll their treachery has taken.

Meanwhile, Grubitz’s investigation into the disappearance of incriminating evidence concludes with a half-hearted apology to Dreyman, effectively ending the inquiry. His own career, however, is irreparably tarnished by the revelation, as he is relegated to the menial task of opening files in Department M, a punishment reserved for Stasi agents deemed too compromised to serve in any meaningful capacity.

On the same day, Mikhail Gorbachev’s ascension to leadership in the Soviet Union ushers in a new era of uncertainty and change. Two years later, Dreyman and Hempf reunite at a performance of his play, each reflecting on the profound impact of German reunification on their lives. When Dreyman expresses curiosity about why he was never under Stasi surveillance, Hempf’s enigmatic reply – “We knew everything” – only serves to deepen his unease.

As Dreyman delves into his own Stasi files at the newly established records agency, he discovers a wealth of contradictions and inconsistencies. It is not until he stumbles upon a telltale fingerprint in red ink on the final report that the truth begins to unravel: a high-ranking Stasi officer, HGW XX/7, had been secretly monitoring his activities and manipulating evidence.

Undeterred by this revelation, Dreyman tracks down Wiesler, now eking out a meager existence as a mail carrier. However, he ultimately decides against confronting his former tormentor, instead choosing to maintain the distance that has grown between them.

Two years pass once more, and Wiesler finds himself standing outside a bookstore window, mesmerized by the promotional display for Dreyman’s latest literary effort, Sonate vom Guten Menschen (“Sonata for a Good Man”). As he purchases a copy, Wiesler is asked if he would like it giftwrapped. His reply – “No, it’s for me” – serves as a poignant testament to the enduring power of the human spirit and the redemptive nature of art.