Der englische Patient

Dank eines erneuten miserablen Programmangebots im Fernsehen ließ ich mich äußerst skeptisch auf dieses hollywood-produzierte Liebesdrama ein. Obwohl meine Vorurteile teilweise von einigen kitschigen Szenen (z.B. als Kip Hana die Bilder in einer Kirche zeigt oder Amásy die verletzte Katherine in einem übergroßen wehenden weißen Gewand zu dramatischer Musik in eine Höhle trägt) bestätigt wurden, war ich zum Schluss des Films doch so tief bewegt und beeindruckt, dass ich mir schnellstens diese DVD besorgte, um noch einmal das Ganze, doch dieses Mal mit den Originalstimmen von Fiennes und Binoche, auf mich wirken zu lassen.

Die wahre Stärke des Filmes liegt in meinen Augen nicht unbedingt in der dramatischen Liebesgeschichte. Hollywood bedient sein Publikum jederzeit mit dergleichen Dingen. Vielmehr begeisterten mich die überzeugenden Schauspielkünste sämtlicher DarstellerInnen sowie die abenteuerlichen Lokalitäten wie die romantische Klosterruine, die faszinierenden Weiten der Sahara und die exotisch-orientalischen Atmosphäre der Basare.
Ferner zeichnet sich dieses Liebesdrama durch zahlreiche poetische wie wunderbare Wortspiele aus. Besonders angetan haben es mir dabei auch die Erotikszenen, die einmal völlig anders aber nicht minder sinnlich waren. Oder gab es schon einmal einen Film, in dem der Liebhaber seiner Geliebten das Kleid näht, das er zuvor beim Liebesakt zerrissen hat?

Die Extras für diesen Film sind hingegen mittelmäßiger Natur: kurze Bios von Fiennes, Binoche, Dafoe und Thomas, eine nichtsagende Photogalerie, eine Auflistung der gewonnenen Filmpreise sowie der deutsche und englische Trailer. Am meisten enttäuscht hat mich jedoch das Making-of von gerade einmal lächerlichen zehn Minuten, bei dem einfach zusammenhangs- und kommentarlos einzelne Drehszenen aneinandergereiht wurden sind. Gerade bei einem Film eines solchen Formates wäre es doch besonders interessant gewesen zu sehen, welchen Aufwand und Zeit beispielsweise das Herstellen der Maske des verbrannten Almásy kostete; wie lange die Dreharbeiten in der Wüste in Anspruch nahmen; über eventuelle Schwierigkeiten dort etc. Aber nichts dergleichen. Sehr schade.

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"The English Patient" is an epic tale of love and loss; of ownership, belonging and the bars erected thereto. It unites the stories of five people: Hungarian count Laszlo de Almasy (Ralph Fiennes), mistaken as English by a British Army medical unit in Italy after professing to have forgotten his identity; Hana (Juliette Binoche), Almasy's Canadian nurse; Katherine Clifton (Kristin Scott Thomas), his erstwhile lover; Kip (Naveen Andrews), a Sikh sapper and Caravaggio (Willem Dafoe), an ex-spy and thief. All outsiders, they are struggling to come to terms with their lives: Almasy, on his deathbed, reflects back to his life as a North African explorer and his affair with Katherine; Hana believes herself cursed because everybody she cares for dies (in the movie her fiance and her best friend; in the novel her fiance, her father and her unborn baby), Katherine is taken to an all-male company of explorers in Cairo by her husband Geoffrey (Colin Firth), Kip, like Hana, is far away from home (the only Indian in an otherwise British and Italian environment) and Caravaggio lost his livelihood after his thumbs were cut off in captivity by the Germans, on a sadistic officer (Juergen Prochnow)'s orders.

Like the novel, the movie's story largely unfolds in flashbacks: After Hana convinces her superiors to let her stay and nurse Almasy in an abandoned Tuscan villa, she and new arrival Caravaggio, who holds Almasy responsible for his fate, extract the details of his life in Africa and the truth about Katherine, Geoffrey and the events uniting him with the Cliftons and Caravaggio from Almasy in a series of conversations. But at the same time, the story is anchored in the present by Hana's growing attachment to Kip, which shines a different light on the themes also driving Almasy and his relationship with Katherine. The film's outstanding cast, which in key roles also includes Julian Wadham as Almasy's friend Madox and Kevin Whately as Kip's sergeant Hardy carries the story marvelously: Probably their biggest award loss(besides Fiennes's and Scott Thomas's Oscar and other "best lead" nominations and Minghella's screenplay Oscar nomination) was the 1997 SAG ensemble award, which instead went to "The Birdcage."

In his screenplay Minghella made several changes vis-a-vis the novel; the biggest of these doubtlessly a shift in focus from Hana, Caravaggio and Kip to Almasy and Katherine, and the fact that the film is much more explicit about Almasy's identity than the novel. Both were wise choices: Hana's inner demons in the novel are largely exactly that - *inner* demons, moreover, substantially grounded in the past and thus even more difficult to portray than Almasy's and Katherine's. Similarly, once the focus had moved to the latter couple, Kip's back story would have extended the movie without significantly advancing it; and the same is true for the intersections between Caravaggio's path and that of Hana's father. Secondly, mistaken *national* identity is overall more central to Almasy's character than identity as such; so the novel's intricate mystery about his persona might well have proven unnecessarily distracting in the movie's context. Indeed, once Almasy had become the story's greatest focus, much of its symbolism virtually even required that there be no real doubt about his identity.

But in all core respects, Minghella remained faithful to Ondaatje's novel; particularly regarding its profoundly impressionistic imagery, as shown, for example, in the curves formed by the Northern African desert's endless sand dunes, which in John Seale's magnificent and justly awardwinning cinematography resemble those of a woman's body as much as they do in Ondaatje's language, thus uniting Almasy's two greatest loves in a single symbol.

Doubtlessly the most important image is that of maps: Guides to unknown places like those drawn by Almasy and his friends during their explorations, but also tools of ownership like the cartography of Northern Africa made possible by Geoffrey Clifton's photos, and ultimately symbols of betrayal, as Almasy surrenders his maps to the Germans in exchange for a plane after he feels deserted by the British. And while Kip, who spends all day searching for bombs but wants to be found at night, guides Hana to himself by a series of tiny signposts in the form of oil lamps - but still never tries to expect her, in order not to get too much attached to her - Almasy, the perpetual loner who declares that he hates ownership more than anything else, gets so attached to Katherine that he claims her suprasternal notch as his exclusive property and later refers to her as his wife, which due to her marriage to Geoffrey she couldn't truly be in life and could only symbolically become in death. - The final word on maps, belonging and ownership, however, is part of Katherine's legacy to Almasy (and I still prefer the novel's language here):

"I believe in such cartography - to be marked by nature, not just label ourselves on a map like the names of rich men and women on buildings. We are communal histories, communal books. ... All I desired was to walk upon such an earth that had no maps."

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