In this somber and thought-provoking film about socialist Germany, the character of Captain Wiesler, a member of the Stasi, is ordered to spy on playwright Georg Dreyman. Wiesler begins his investigation with complete loyalty to the socialist party, but slowly he gains clarity about the situation and must make difficult decisions regarding the fate of his subject. One particular scene best exemplifies this aspect of Wiesler’s inner conflict: Wiesler goes to his boss, Colonel Grubitz, with a detailed report outlining Dreyman’s activities, some of which might be considered subversive by party officials. Before Wiesler hands in his report, Grubitz, a character who epitomizes the callous, malignant, totalitarian government official who benefits from the suffering of others, excitedly describes a new way to interrogate (essentially, torture) artists; he explains how the party would go about interrogating Dreyer. As Wiesler listens to his boss speak so easily about ending a man’s career and completing crushing his spirit, he begins to deliberate about whether or not he should hand in his report. In this moment, Wiesler makes a choice that will define his character in the film. He leaves Grubitz’s office without giving his report. He simply says that he has seen no suspicious activity, and that perhaps it’s best if they lessen the amount of surveillance on Dreyer. Grubitz agrees, with reservations.
Wiesler is perhaps the most complicated character in the film. We are privy to the most intimate details of his life; we see his small, nondescript apartment, the prostitute whom he begs to stay with him, contrasted with his professional identity: his harsh, serious attitude that makes him an unrelenting interrogator and loyal member of the socialist party. One could argue that Wiesler has a weakness for human connection. This scene shows his sensitivity to others; he has formed a bond with his subject, Georg Dreyer, as he spends nearly every waking moment of his life listening to and watching him. Wiesler does not interact with many people; in fact, he tends to avoid becoming close to anyone. But he develops an obsession with the life of Dreyer, as though the surveillance has become an addiction for him. Wiesler’s emotional and psychological connection to Dreyer impedes his ability to act in the best interest of the party he works for. In the scene, he is torn between his loyalty to the Stasi party and his subject. Grubitz sits across from him, fixing him with an unfeeling glare, waiting for the report. He expects to hear condemning evidence from Wiesler about the playwright. Wiesler must decide in a matter of moments whether it is worth protecting Dreyer and keeping secrets from the powerful Stasi. Towards the end of the scene, he makes a deliberate choice that will lead him to his ultimate decision to risk his career – and even his life – to protect Dreyer. It is in that one moment, where he does not give Grubitz his report, that he shows the audience his human side, his sensitivity, and the wavering of his loyalty to the socialist party; essentially, his questioning of the government’s motives in the operation. It is this scene that shows the power and danger of free will, which, paradoxically, is something that totalitarian governments try hard to extinguish.