MIDWAY THROUGH THE second half of Wim Wenders’ Until the End of the World, the movie’s narrator, Eugene (Sam Neill), plays music with a group of characters in an Australian village. Eugene is on piano, his friend David (David Gulpilil) plays the didgeridoo, a German private investigator (Rüdiger Vogler) wails on a harmonica, and a French bank robber (Chick Ortega) plays drums while they wait anxiously for news about the destruction of a nuclear satellite, which, we’re told, would bring about Armageddon.
Eugene reflects on the journey that’s led the group here and realizes this communal moment of joy in the face of fear is its apex. He calls it “a prayer for the wounded earth.” In many ways, this 1991 global sci-fi odyssey, recently released in a director’s cut by the Criterion Collection, feels like exactly that. It’s a prayer for not only its fictional future earth but the self-involved world we live in now, a world drunk on idealized images of ourselves.
Claire (Solveig Dommartin), Eugene’s ex, is the film’s focus. Feeling adrift after their breakup, Claire falls in love with a stranger, Sam (William Hurt), who hitches a ride with her in France. Sam is wanted by the U.S. government for stealing a camera invented by his father (Max Von Sydow) that records images as brainwaves, allowing the blind to see. Sam travels the globe, gathering video to share with his blind mother (Jeanne Moreau) in Australia. Eugene, hoping to win Claire back, follows in their wake. In the background, the out-of-control satellite looms above the planet, ready to drop out of orbit at any time, generating global panic and depression.
The effect of Von Sydow’s camera is isolating for the characters who use it, rather than connecting. Claire and Sam become lost in images of themselves, forsaking the joyous interactions they once had as they slide into a form of image addiction. It’s as if Wenders predicted the way contemporary culture would become undone by the advance of technology, the advent of social media and the overstimulated vacuum it would create.
Until the End of the World meanders, but it’s unified by the idea of using story and interaction to heal the wounds our tech-obsessed society has created. Addiction to image has brought isolation, Wenders postulates, but perhaps relationship is the living prayer that reunites. Eugene invokes the gospel of John (“In the beginning was the Word ...”) in pulling Claire back from the brink, telling her the story of her journey, and reminding her of her connection to the world. Wenders’ film suggests seeking genuine interaction instead of facsimiles, and listening to our own stories, might do the same for us.
Abby Olcese is a freelance film critic and writer based in Missouri. You can find her on Twitter @abbyolcese.
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