F
In the Fade delves deeper into the protagonist’s grief than Head On ever dares. Akin shows only the aftermath of the blast, sticking with Katja as she rolls up to the police cordon in her car, makes a mad dash for the crime scene, and gets tackled by police. Later, when she learns that a man and a boy have been killed and the police ask her for a DNA sample, Katja howls and collapses, writhing on the floor. Visions of the last moments torture her for days. “Imagine Rocco lying on the ground, seeing his own limbs around him,” she says to a friend. “Imagine how scared he was.” Summoning up her courage, Katja ventures past the plastic sheeting that covers the bombed-out office; inside she spies a spray of blood dried against one wall and silently leans her forehead against it. In the most excruciating scene of all, Katja curls up in Rocco’s bunk bed, sobbing uncontrollably; the room is flooded with light, and the bed has a cute little play slide leading from the bunk to the floor.
Directed by Fatih Akin
