Sebastian Meise’s 2021 feature film, Große Freiheit (Great Freedom) is an exhilarating, though heartbreaking account of one man’s relentless refusal to adhere to the norms of a system without mercy, no matter the cost.
“Great Freedom” follows our charmingly laconic protagonist, Hans Hoffmann after his prosecution for “sexual deviancy” according to Paragraph 175 of West German Law. This law which justified the abhorrent treatment of LGBT people under the Nazi Regime shockingly remained (albeit in a modified form) encoded in West German Law until 1994. Weise uses Hans’ story to explore the juxtaposition between a so-called “liberated” post-war Germany, and the violent oppression and suppression faced by those marginalized in this context.
What I appreciated most about this film is its subversion of the typical protagonist of such a narrative. The persecuted white, gay man narrative is nothing new to western media, but media under this category frequently relies on the audience’s pity for the character. Usually, the hero is young, conventionally attractive, and sympathetic. The conflict is between bigotry as a mysterious, permeating force, and the sweeping force of monogamous love. We are encouraged to root for him because he almost perfectly fits into a heteronormative, patriarchal framework, and, besides it’s not his fault. We watch as he self-flagellates himself into oblivion, begging some higher power to change him, and ultimately, we see that there’s no point in trying to change him, not because he deserves to be free of judgment, but rather because he is not changeable.
Hans, however, is far from this model. Lanky and elusive, he often has a mocking smirk on his face. He is profoundly loving, both towards himself and others, and unapologetic about this fact. He refuses to see himself or his many lovers as criminal or monstrous. He has no interest in the favor of those who do not respect him. As the audience we are moved, not by his helplessness, but by his relentless dedication to preserving his right to intimacy as a human being whose humanity demands it.
While devastating and unsentimental in its portrayal of this tragic story, I would absolutely recommend Große Freiheit. Highly incisive and carefully composed, Weise provides all of us, especially those of us engaging with German-language content greater insight into a historical context in which the language was expressly appropriated to oppress a marginalized group.