I've seen The Lives of Others twice, and highly recommend it. I'm haunted by Sebastian Koch's face, a face that holds, that withholds, so much. And by his manner, which is such a canny mixture of caution and innocence. Canny's the wrong word: it seemed completely unconscious, an aura of divine favor. Consider, for example, the way so much of he said was not really offensive to the regime, and at the same time not hypocritical either. He was always honest, and he never compromised himself.

The face of Ulrich Mühe also gained depth at a vertiginous rate, even though his expression never changed. Depending on where you let your eyes focus, you saw in their faces a blank wall, or infinitely complicated reserve.

And the first time you see them you think you have their measure: smug egotist; sadist.

I was reminded of:

Divided We Fall: the man whose job it is to spy and persecute turns by imperceptible shades, almost without knowing what's happening to him, into a saviour.

The White Rose: for the chessboard interrogations in German.

and, maybe because I'm reading We wish to inform you that tomorrow we will be killed with our families, Hotel Rwanda, again for the tightrope negotiations with an evil power.