During the '80s Hungarian director István Szabó made a loose trilogy with celebrated Austrian actor Klaus Maria Brandauer. Colonel Redl is the second movie in the trilogy, and although it is not as well known as the Oscar-winning Mephisto, it is nevertheless as interesting and well made.
The movie is a fictionalised biopic of Alfred Redl (Brandauer), who is born to a poor Ukrainian family and in normal circumstances would have been condemned to a life of insignificance; but, blessed with patriotic fervour for the Emperor and influential people who take him under their wing, he's sent to military school where he refines the talents that will be useful to him all his life, namely knowing the right answers to his superiors' questions, being fanatically devoted to the monarchy, and having little moral qualms about betraying friends and comrades. It's no surprise then that he has a steady rise in ranks until he becomes the head of the counter-intelligence services. And that's when his perfect, efficient career starts crumbling.
The Austro-Hungarian Empire is a tense place, bubbling with treason and revolutionary plans, devoid of national identity, a mishmash of dozens of peoples - Hungarians, Ukrainians, Czechs, Serbians, Austrians, not to mention Jews - all hating each other. One's background can decide what one's life will be or even get one killed. It's in this atmosphere of subdued terror, lies, and paranoia that Redl, a Ukrainian hiding his Jewish ancestry and ashamed of his poor background, operates a network of espionage to ferret out traitors and criminals in the army, for the army is all that sustains the Emperor's power in an Empire that has no reason to know the concept of patriotism.
One day he's brought to the presence of Archduke Ferdinand and ordered to find a patsy to alleviate inter-ethnic tensions. World War I is just around the corner and the Archduke wants a sensational public case of treason that will unify the Empire against a common enemy. When Redl's first victim, a Hungarian nobleman, backfires on him, a plot is hatched to make him look like a spy for the Russians.
Based on a play by John Osborne, the movie shows Redl as a Kafkaesque anti-hero, an innocent man caught in the paralysing, faceless world of bureaucracy, unable to extricate himself from it because it operates under an incomprehensible logic. It's a far cry from the real Redl, though, who was blackmailed by Russians into spying for them lest his homosexuality be exposed. I'm not one to judge quality by historical faithfulness, but I can't help thinking Redl's real story could make an equally remarkable movie one day.
The movie is consistently interesting, although it develops slowly, covering many years in Redl's life, from childhood to adulthood. Brandauer plays a cold, reserved, callous man who nevertheless draws sympathy for his devotion and work ethic. Although the viewer is left wondering whether Redl didn't just waste his life being too loyal to the Emperor, it is impossible not to feel sorry for him when the Empire he lives for betrays him.
Armin Mueller-Stahl's performance as the Archduke isn't less spectacular. Showing ruthlessness, control and a sharp mind, this political strategist does what he has to do to keep the Empire together.
Although the facts are fictionalised, the movie shows Szabó's eye for historical details and no scene fails to produce wonder at the way a dress or piece of furniture looks or at the magnificence of the historical sites used for locations.
István Szabó and Klaus Maria Brandauer don't get enough credit nowadays, but in the '80s they were an unstoppable duo and Colonel Redl is one of their masterpieces.
The movie is a fictionalised biopic of Alfred Redl (Brandauer), who is born to a poor Ukrainian family and in normal circumstances would have been condemned to a life of insignificance; but, blessed with patriotic fervour for the Emperor and influential people who take him under their wing, he's sent to military school where he refines the talents that will be useful to him all his life, namely knowing the right answers to his superiors' questions, being fanatically devoted to the monarchy, and having little moral qualms about betraying friends and comrades. It's no surprise then that he has a steady rise in ranks until he becomes the head of the counter-intelligence services. And that's when his perfect, efficient career starts crumbling.
The Austro-Hungarian Empire is a tense place, bubbling with treason and revolutionary plans, devoid of national identity, a mishmash of dozens of peoples - Hungarians, Ukrainians, Czechs, Serbians, Austrians, not to mention Jews - all hating each other. One's background can decide what one's life will be or even get one killed. It's in this atmosphere of subdued terror, lies, and paranoia that Redl, a Ukrainian hiding his Jewish ancestry and ashamed of his poor background, operates a network of espionage to ferret out traitors and criminals in the army, for the army is all that sustains the Emperor's power in an Empire that has no reason to know the concept of patriotism.
One day he's brought to the presence of Archduke Ferdinand and ordered to find a patsy to alleviate inter-ethnic tensions. World War I is just around the corner and the Archduke wants a sensational public case of treason that will unify the Empire against a common enemy. When Redl's first victim, a Hungarian nobleman, backfires on him, a plot is hatched to make him look like a spy for the Russians.
Based on a play by John Osborne, the movie shows Redl as a Kafkaesque anti-hero, an innocent man caught in the paralysing, faceless world of bureaucracy, unable to extricate himself from it because it operates under an incomprehensible logic. It's a far cry from the real Redl, though, who was blackmailed by Russians into spying for them lest his homosexuality be exposed. I'm not one to judge quality by historical faithfulness, but I can't help thinking Redl's real story could make an equally remarkable movie one day.
The movie is consistently interesting, although it develops slowly, covering many years in Redl's life, from childhood to adulthood. Brandauer plays a cold, reserved, callous man who nevertheless draws sympathy for his devotion and work ethic. Although the viewer is left wondering whether Redl didn't just waste his life being too loyal to the Emperor, it is impossible not to feel sorry for him when the Empire he lives for betrays him.
Armin Mueller-Stahl's performance as the Archduke isn't less spectacular. Showing ruthlessness, control and a sharp mind, this political strategist does what he has to do to keep the Empire together.
Although the facts are fictionalised, the movie shows Szabó's eye for historical details and no scene fails to produce wonder at the way a dress or piece of furniture looks or at the magnificence of the historical sites used for locations.
István Szabó and Klaus Maria Brandauer don't get enough credit nowadays, but in the '80s they were an unstoppable duo and Colonel Redl is one of their masterpieces.