Black Box Germany Reviews

In November, 1989, a car bomb killed Deutsch Bank executive Alfred Herhaussen three minutes from his Frankfurt home, a terrorist act later credited to the radical left-wing Red Army Faction. Four years later, RAF member Wofgang "Gaks" Grams was shot to death under "unclear" circumstances during his arrest at the Bad Kleinen train station. His girlfriend, Birgit Hogefeld, with whom Grams went underground several years earlier, was taken into police custody. Whether or not Grams, who discussed the possibility of armed action with several comrades, was responsible for Herhaussen's death remains a mystery, but German filmmaker Andreas Veiel's haunting documentary offers a fascinating double portrait of two very different men whose destinies became inextricably entwined. Ambitious, competitive and fearless in the face of opposition, Herhaussen rose quickly through the ranks of Deutsch Bank — Germany's largest and most important financial institution — to become an key member of the board of managing directors. Grams, the son of East German immigrants, was an idealist who came of age during the late 1960s and early '70s, when the Baader-Meinhoff Gang (aka the Red Army Faction), brought violence to the left-wing struggle with a series of bombings and prison breaks. After the 1972 arrest of the group's core members, including Andreas Baader and Holger Meins, Grams began advocating for prisoners' rights and housing for the poor; such good intentions soon led to his direct involvement with the RAF. After the 1997 kidnapping and murder of Employer Federation president Hans Martin Schleyer by RAF members, Herhaussen began anticipating his own abduction; Deutsch Bank's dealings with Daimler-Benz, who had just acquired a major arms manufacturer, made him a prime target. Bodyguards accompanied Herhaussen everywhere, and he left detailed instructions with his second wife, Trudl, that "no response be given to impossible blackmail." Kidnapping, however, was not what the RAF had in mind. The sad irony is that in the final months of his life, the powerful Herhaussen began seriously advocating the elimination of Third World debt to First World banks, which endeared him to those students of '68 who hadn't moved to the lunatic fringe. Gans and Herhaussens' stories are told solely through interviews with friends, family members, colleagues and comrades of both men; boldly forgoing any kind of voice over narration, the film leaves certain connections open to interpretation and speculation. Perhaps this is how it should be, in a case so circumscribed by omissions, mystery and cloudy evidence that continues to haunt the German conscience.