The Unseen Observer: Thomas Heise’s Legacy in ‘Übergang’
There’s something profoundly moving about a filmmaker’s final work, especially when it arrives posthumously. Thomas Heise’s Übergang, premiering at the Locarno Film Festival, is more than a documentary—it’s a ghost story, a meditation on time, and a mirror held up to a fractured Germany. What makes this particularly fascinating is how the film transcends its creator’s absence, becoming a dialogue between Heise’s vision and the collaborators who brought it to life.
Heise, a master of chronicling the unremarkable lives that define history, had begun Übergang as a portrait of Berlin’s Schönhauser Allee. But his sudden death in 2024 left the project unfinished, a fragment of intent. Co-directors Peter Badel and Chris Wright stepped in, not to complete it, but to reimagine it. This isn’t just a film about Heise; it’s a film with him, his voice echoing through archival footage, photographs, and the quiet rhythms of everyday life.
The Duality of ‘Übergang’: A Title That Speaks Volumes
One thing that immediately stands out is the title itself. Übergang translates to “transition,” but it’s a word layered with meaning. Schönhauser Allee, a bustling transit hub, becomes a metaphor for Germany’s own transitions—from East to West, from division to unity, and now, perhaps, from memory to amnesia. Badel and Wright’s decision to retain Heise’s title feels deliberate, almost defiant. It’s a reminder that history isn’t linear; it’s a series of intersections, some more chaotic than others.
What many people don’t realize is how deeply personal this duality is. Heise grew up in East Berlin, a place where transitions were often forced, violent, or silent. His films have always been about the people left behind by grand narratives. Übergang continues this tradition, but with a twist: the observer becomes the observed. Through voiceovers and interview vignettes, Heise’s own life becomes the subject, his relationship with time and change laid bare.
The Fragmentary Nature of Memory and Art
If you take a step back and think about it, the film’s structure is its most radical statement. Badel and Wright didn’t try to impose a traditional narrative. Instead, they embraced fragmentation, weaving together outtakes, diary excerpts, and unseen footage. This isn’t a homage; it’s a continuation of Heise’s aesthetic. His films were never about answers—they were about questions, about the spaces between moments.
A detail that I find especially interesting is their use of Heise’s personal archive. His husband, Michael, granted them full access, and in those materials, Heise remained a collaborator. Wright mentions hearing Heise’s voice in the edit room, a ghostly presence guiding decisions. This raises a deeper question: Can a film truly be posthumous if the artist’s spirit is still shaping it?
The Final Scene: A Masterclass in Subtlety
The film’s closing moment is a masterstroke. Michael, a homeless man begging for change at Schönhauser Allee, delivers the final words. It’s a choice that feels both inevitable and unexpected. Heise often centered the lives of those society overlooks, and here, Michael becomes the embodiment of time’s transience. What this really suggests is that Heise’s legacy isn’t just in his films—it’s in his ability to see the profound in the mundane.
Why This Matters Beyond the Screen
Personally, I think Übergang is more than a documentary; it’s a warning. Heise’s concern with the erosion of historical memory feels eerily prescient in today’s political climate. As Badel notes, the film covers the shift away from traditional politics, the forgetting of lessons learned from war and destruction. This isn’t just a German story—it’s a global one.
From my perspective, the film’s greatest achievement is its refusal to be nostalgic. It doesn’t romanticize the past; it interrogates it. Heise’s voice, his questions, his insistence on seeing the world as it is—these are the things we’ve lost. Übergang doesn’t mourn him; it amplifies him, reminding us that the act of questioning is itself an act of resistance.
Final Thoughts: A Film That Lives and Breathes
What makes Übergang so compelling is its refusal to be pinned down. It’s a documentary, a biography, a ghost story, and a political statement all at once. Badel and Wright didn’t just finish Heise’s film—they honored it by letting it evolve. The result is a work that feels alive, a conversation between the past and the present, the seen and the unseen.
If there’s one takeaway, it’s this: Thomas Heise may be gone, but his questions remain. And in a world that seems increasingly eager to forget, those questions are more vital than ever.
