Just the kind of a film I want to direct, produce, play, write etc.

Ponderous and contrived, but you've gotta love Peter Falk here.

Got this from Video Ezy the other day. I liked the bird fucking in Pink Flamingos so I took this title literally - big mistake. I thought the Germans were renowned for their fetishes, so Wim Wenders has come as a substantial disappointment to me.

Wim Wenders's sentimental fantasy for eggheads. The aimlessness, even stagnancy, of these angels is of course perfectly consistent with the heroes of other films of this director. But to go to the trouble of inventing a supernatural species and then invest them with no more power or purpose than this -- a celestial Clark Kent without the underwear -- seems, to put it bluntly, nothing less than unimaginative.

Nick Cave is like, so cool..

Wenders is trying too hard. But I do love that library sequence--perhaps mostly for the soundtrack.

Probably it's the greatest reflexion about time and humanity, full of poetry and Wender's supernatural hability.

From time to time I try to recollect the poem from this film that goes "Als das kind kind war..." Of course I mostly fail at that, it being German and all, but I just realized that the fact that I even want to remember a German quote, it being German and all, is such an amazing accomplishment that it's perhaps the greatest credit I can give this film. So there. Peter Falk is great, the poetic atmosphere is great, the cinematography is great. But nothing in this film is as great as that poem.

On the simultaneous pleasures and ravages of time and space. The elaborate set pieces reflect the vast gulf between individuals, and the subjective black-and-white cinematography emphasizes detachment. It's only when this emotional gap is bridged do we experience the world in a burst of color and ambiance. A truly singular achievement, with a heck of a lot to chew on.

As poetic and as artsy as it gets, this is a magnificent piece of work that could only come from the smooth, sooth mind of Wim Wenders.

A dream like state, full of reverie, images of deep black and grey, forlorn scenes of broken earthly cities, lonely people. Despair, crime, a lack of hope. Contrasted against angelic peace. Sedate, unimposing, free, yet inversely shackled to a fate of... entopry. Wenders introspectively observes the human condition, our state of imperfection and teases through art (our fleeting connection to the divine) at the what it means to be human, and what gives life meaning. Simply beautiful stuff here.

In 1998, Robert McKee wrote the following, in an extremely WEAK (vag) theoretical text on the art of scriptwriting called "Structure Spectrum": "Originality lies in the struggle for authenticity, not eccentricity. A personal style, in other words, cannot be achieved self-consciously." This is the film that proves him wrong. Eccentric, personal and very self-conscious. Falk, Ganz, Cave. Unforgetable. Just would've wished Wenders hadn't made that dream sequence. That was ... disgustingly 80's.

My girlfriend called this film an "existentialist buffet," and there is perhaps no more apt description. Its narrative is fragmented and meandering, but this is not a film that one watches for conventional plot progression. Despite its heavy-handed meditations on the nature of what it is to truly be alive, Wings of Desire is an absolutely gorgeous film filled with breathtaking photography. Also, it gets points for Nick Cave's appearance where he and the Bad Seeds perform "From Her to Eternity."

The kind of heavy material that just doesn't have a script insightful enough to pull it off. Wenders is hailed in the New German Cinema but this seems like the weakest kind of classical themes, only occasionally dwelling on a moment/thought of interest. It does deliver on a nearly continuous level of stellar imagery, I could almost understand buying into this based solely on that......almost.

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The potential was there, but something about it bugged me. I mean the guy quit being an angel just to experience the worst life has to offer, (blood, coffee, cigarettes, and depressed loser punks) what's up with that?

Not a Wenders fan; this was my favorite.

One of the most boring films I ever saw. It did have a few good moments and some impressive imagery, but not nearly enough to justify 2 hours of yawning...

Beautifully made and later for some reason again remade.