Oliver Hirschbiegel had to do something to stop the rot. After the watchable Five Minutes of Heaven, the truly awful Diana followed and threatened to derail his career. The director returns to familiar territory here and while 13 Minutes doesn’t have the same fascination or insight of his Downfall, Christian Friedal’s performance keeps interest levels high.
Georg Elser (Friedel) hurries to plant a home-made bomb on the upper floor of an empty hall: it’s 1939 and because he sees his country destroyed by the Nazis, the Fuhrer is his target. Stopped by soldiers and, revealed to have bomb paraphernalia and a badge for the Red Front in his possession, is arrested on the spot. The bomb goes off, however, killing eight, but Hitler had left the hall thirteen minutes before detonation. Elser is questioned by Gestapo man Muller (Johan von Bulow) and SS officer Nebe (Klausner). Subjected to torture, Elser thinks back to love Elsa (Schuttler) and how his apolitical bed-hopping furniture maker became obsessed with assassinating Hitler.
13 Minutes suffers from a flat tone but there are pockets of interest. Hirschbiegel’s opening salvo - Elser carefully putting the bomb in place as sweat drops from his brow onto the torch that hangs from his mouth - is gripping and the director finds subtle ways to seamlessly link in and out of the disconnected flashbacks. Elser’s deconstruction of Hitler’s regime at first rankles with his interrogators but it begins to eat away at Nebe’s staunch Nazi, who would go on to be executed for his part in the 1944 Hitler assassination attempt; Hirschbiegel leaves his most arresting visual until last with Nebe’s execution turning up in an epilogue.
Friedel is livelier than his roles in The White Ribbon and Amour Fou but still holds fast to an expression that expects the worst to happen. He makes for a curious hero - he’s seen to move from woman to woman, siring children and moving on. He has no love for his alcoholic father and little time for his mother’s faith. He stands by when Elsa is beaten by her boorish husband.
But the problem facing 13 Minutes is that the material is familiar with factual assassination movies not in short supply in the last few years: Bobby, The Assassination of Richard Nixon, The Conspirator. There was even an 1989 version of this story, curiously titled 7 Minutes. Hirschbiegel is back on surer ground but does manage to turn an amazing story into something ordinary.
