Der Trinker Statistiken
Erwin Sommer, der kinderlos mit seiner Frau Magda in soliden kleinbürgerlichen Verhältnissen lebt, flüchtet in den Alkohol. Er hat das elterliche Geschäft gemeinsam mit seiner Frau durch die schweren Zeiten gebracht, aber die ersten Rückschläge. Der Trinker ist eine deutsch-österreichische Literaturverfilmung von unter der Regie von Tom Toelle. Das von Ulrich Plenzdorf verfasste Drehbuch beruht. Der Trinker ist ein Roman von Hans Fallada. Der Autor verfasste das Werk während einer Haftzeit in der Landesanstalt Neustrelitz-Strelitz. Er stützte sich. Directed by Tom Toelle. With Harald Juhnke, Jutta Wachowiak, Deborah Kaufmann, Eberhard Esche. While his company is facing drastic financial problems. Entdecken Sie Der Trinker und weitere TV-Serien auf DVD- & Blu-ray in unserem vielfältigen Angebot. Gratis Lieferung möglich.
TV-Trinkerdrama nach Hans Fallada. Kraftlos kämpft Lebensmittelgroßhändler Erwin Sommer (Harald Juhnke) in einer brandenburgischen Kleinstadt um das. Hans Fallada erzählt in seinem nach Kriegsende erschienenen Roman "Der Trinker" die Geschichte des Landwirtschaftsgrossisten Erwin Sommer, der aus. Der Trinker ist eine deutsch-österreichische Literaturverfilmung von unter der Regie von Tom Toelle. Das von Ulrich Plenzdorf verfasste Drehbuch beruht. He cannot see the go here apparent to others, yet he perceives the stealing of continue reading soul in see more clink of a glass. Learn Prisoners streamcloud - opens in a new window or tab Any international shipping and import charges are dave franco filme in part to Pitney Bowes Inc. Der Trinker by Hans Fallada. As a result, I would agree with the previous reviewer who said that the heart breaking descent of Erwin felt 'banal'. The alcohol here is beside the point. Edit Cast Complete credited cast: Harald Juhnke Fassbinder Günther Neutze Incarcerated for sexual offences against young boys. Last one. A man asserts himself within the life of an actress he believes more info somehow responsible for his son's death. Everything New on Netflix in June. Plot Summary. Although alcoholism is a serious issue th This book was chosen as part of our office book club and I immediately decided I wouldn't like the walking so I put off starting the book for as long as possible. Books by Hans Fallada. Edit Garrett rosenthal You Know? Ellinor Eberhard Esche Bibi und Tina Serie - Uhr. Alle anzeigen. Universal plant Reboot von "Twister": Es wird wieder stürmisch. Edit Storyline While his company is facing drastic financial problems, a former drinker suffers article source relapse. Schützenhilfe erhält er von For franzГ¶sisch fГјr anfГ¤nger kinox thank Mr.
Metacritic Reviews. Photo Gallery. Trailers and Videos. Crazy Credits. Alternate Versions. Rate This. Director: Tom Toelle.
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You must be a registered user to use the IMDb rating plugin. Photos Add Image. Edit Cast Complete credited cast: Harald Juhnke Erwin Sommer Jutta Wachowiak Magda Sommer Deborah Kaufmann Ellinor Eberhard Esche Monsfeld Christian Grashof Learn more More Like This.
Un Profil pour deux Certificate: Tous publics Comedy Romance. This Man Must Die Comedy Crime Drama.
Port of Freedom Drama Musical Romance. Schtonk The Captain from Köpenick Comedy Drama. Drama Romance Thriller. Irgendwas bleibt immer TV Movie Fatal Plan TV Movie Three old friends are going on a cycle holiday, like they did 20 years ago.
Edit Storyline While his company is facing drastic financial problems, a former drinker suffers a relapse. Genres: Drama.
Edit Did You Know? Was this review helpful to you? Yes No Report this. Add the first question. Edit Details Country: Germany.
Language: German. Runtime: 99 min. His fault, not someone else, not something else. Me neither. And that is story enough.
View all 7 comments. What a wonderful, devastating book—an axe , Kafka would call it: my frozen sea inside me is all whacked into slush.
Writers might study this book as a lucid example of crucible, that diabolical equation whereby protagonists are simultaneously repelled and compelled by the central crisis of the story.
But don't think that the crucible here is simply a device to keep you reading it will. Fallada's crucible embodies a deep understanding of human nature.
Protag Sommer's short memory of the past, his What a wonderful, devastating book—an axe , Kafka would call it: my frozen sea inside me is all whacked into slush.
Protag Sommer's short memory of the past, his ability to excuse himself for anything in the present, his tunnel vision of the future and we shouldn't think just because we don't have a drinking problem that we don't do this, too lead him into ever lower circles of hell where he meets all kinds of imps and tormentors.
The last chapters of this book had me up way past my bedtime, and then I could not sleep at all. I think this book laid eggs in me.
View all 6 comments. As with all of the books of Hans Fallada, this is an insider's look at Germany unlike any other.
What sets this one apart is its personalization, the fact that the outside world does not appear at all. Written in an encrypted notebook in a Nazi insane asylum, this is the most intimate of Fallada's books, one which plunges through his psyche rather than the zeitgeist of Germany in the years following WWI as in What Now Little Man or his masterpiece, life under the Gestapo in wartime Berlin as t As with all of the books of Hans Fallada, this is an insider's look at Germany unlike any other.
Written in an encrypted notebook in a Nazi insane asylum, this is the most intimate of Fallada's books, one which plunges through his psyche rather than the zeitgeist of Germany in the years following WWI as in What Now Little Man or his masterpiece, life under the Gestapo in wartime Berlin as told in Every Man Dies Alone.
There is no reference to the horrors outside as Fallada is dealing with his own demons. Yes it is fictionalized, but enough has been written about his life and why he ended up spending the war incarcerated, which he shares with his protagonist.
As with Burkowski, only a person who has experienced the downward spiral into extreme alcoholism and has the poetic touch can fully convey the delusional panorama of total immersion into the madness that the disease provides.
Highly recommended. View 1 comment. May 13, c. They will steal this book from your shelf. It is a hard-to-find book; even special ordered and second-hand.
But that is not why They will steal it and that is not why you will be pissed at seeing it gone. Of course They did not want to steal it it just had to be done.
For your own good. How else could They understand you? Only thru this simple book; pages read in one night. The revelations They think They find about you litter the first fifty: Then I sat down at table again, feeling pleasantly abandoned to my drunkenness, and only the necessity of at least going through the form of eating, presented difficulty.
My stomach seemed a very delicate thing, ready to revolt at any moment. I had the last bottle at my lips, I realised with a terrible certainty that I was lost, that there was no salvation for me, that I belonged to alcohol, body and soul.
Right in the presence of my neat, sober, efficient wife, I wanted to get blind raving drunk, to put my feet up on the desk, to sing coarse and dirty songs and use obscene expressions.
What utter satisfaction to drag her down into the filth with me, to make her see: this is the one you used to love, and this is that your love has made of him With that They find what was set out to be found: the only logical reason of his downfall was, obviously, a woman.
And, being woman, They think They can be the solution. So the rest of the book is read much like a how-to manual; read as though it is the oracle of what will become of you if They do not succeed in saving you read to justify that you need saving.
It starts with: There were tears in my eyes, lights flickered in front of them, veils seem to float through my brain, often I was almost unconscious.
At last I lay on my bed again, nearly dead with exhaustion, seized with an insane fear; was the end near? So soon, already? Did one become a drunkard so quickly?
I had regarded this period of drunkenness merely as a passing phase; I had been convinced that I could give it up at any time without harming myself — and now was everything to come to an end already?
No, it was impossible! They will continue reading the vast pages that do not mention drink — or even the need to drink — and become as terrified as you did upon the first reading but for different reasons.
Whereas you flipped thru the pages quickly in fear fearing forced sobriety would be so easy; terror comes in thinking it would be.
Thoughts thought until reading the end the beautiful consumptive end. But They will not reach a conclusion about the book for months to come; not until They fail at saving you.
Then — exhausted by your inability to change — the last few pages will be read again And I will become young again, and I will see the world blossoming, all the springtimes and the roses and the young girls from time past.
But one will approach me and lean her pale face over me, who have fallen on my knees before her, and she will enshroud me with her dark hair.
And They will dispose of the book as a way of trying to forget you. An extraordinary book, and extraordinarily painful to read.
There are those who make the case that this book is a metaphor for Hitler's Germany. I don't know about that. My experience with Al-Anon tells me that the pitifully self-destructive behavior that poor Hans Fallada documents here is pure, unadulterated alcoholism.
This is thinly veiled autobiography, and it's absolutely wrenching to read of his self-delusions, his descent into madness, his heartbreaking willingness to abandon the advice An extraordinary book, and extraordinarily painful to read.
This is thinly veiled autobiography, and it's absolutely wrenching to read of his self-delusions, his descent into madness, his heartbreaking willingness to abandon the advice of loved ones for the soothing lies of evil men.
Later in the book, once he is institutionalized, it is equally wrenching to read of the loss of his freedom, his self-respect, his health and his hope.
Today, he would have been treated compassionately, by top experts in the field. But Hans Fallada had the vast misfortune to be living in Hitler's Germany, a country that was all too happy to condemn its mentally challenged citizens to death.
A difficult, desolating book, but a fascinating, clear-sighted view into the world of the addict. Aug 11, G. Riveting and devastating, "The Drinker" chronicles one man's rapid descent from the heights--or at least the comfortable ledges--of middle-class respectability, down to the depths of alcoholic degradation.
To most normal people, the story will perhaps seem baffling and incomprehensible, even in spite of Fallada's excellent, spare prose; most rational minds will have a hard time comprehending how one man can sink so low, so fast.
But alcoholism, alas, is not a rational disease, and anyone who has Riveting and devastating, "The Drinker" chronicles one man's rapid descent from the heights--or at least the comfortable ledges--of middle-class respectability, down to the depths of alcoholic degradation.
But alcoholism, alas, is not a rational disease, and anyone who has ever seen the inside of an AA meeting or spent the night in a drunk tank will likely find this novel--particularly its early chapters and its final ones--impossible to put down, or to forget.
Fallada's narrator, Herr Sommer, starts as a somewhat well-to-do businessman in Nazi-era Germany, but pretty much skips the social drinking phase of alcoholism and entangles himself in a rapidly worsening cycle of marital strife and monetary struggle, exacerbated by bad schnapps and worse decisions.
For those familiar with the literature of alcoholism, it will probably feel like an extended version of one of those first-person accounts if s-era inebriated insanity that pepper the front of AA's "Big Book.
This book is reportedly somewhat autobiographical, for Fallada wrote it while confined in such an institution.
Remarkably, though, it is relatively free from the twin perilous pillars of alcoholic authordom: self-pity and self-aggrandizement.
Instead, it is full of honest writing, lean and spare, full of power and truth. Relatively early on, the narrator--unable or unwilling to maintain the effort needed to keep living the high life, or even the mid-life--tells his wife that people "can feel joy and sorrow down below, Magda, it's just like being up above, it's all the same whether you live up or down.
Perhaps the most beautiful thing is to let yourself fall, to shut your eyes and plunge into nothingness, deeper and deeper into nothingness.
Still, it feels true, in that the alcoholic often secretly longs to simply stop living, without expending the effort or mental energy required for suicide.
Those that keep drinking do so because the warm numbing fuzz of inebriation remains infinitely preferable to the bright sharp edges of reality; ultimately, however, their only salvation is oblivion.
The Drinker, by Hans Fallada, is the story of suicide. Don't be fooled by the fact that no one dies: this is a story of death.
Death of a marriage, death of self-respect, death of personal freedom. Erwin Sommer gives a first-person account of his descent as seen from the enforced sobriety of his incarceration at the asylum.
Sommer's voice is as dry as he is, and flights of verbal fancy occur only in remembered drunken conversations.
There is nothing beautiful or gilded in either phrasing or deta The Drinker, by Hans Fallada, is the story of suicide. There is nothing beautiful or gilded in either phrasing or detail; Sommer doesn't romanticize his fall, nor does he glorify the false sense of empowerment drink gave him.
Instead, he details the increasing squalor, baseness, and loss born of his addiction. It is a harsh, terrifying read - one made even more frightening by the insignificance of events that tipped an upstanding, healthy life of relative sanity into something literally disfigured.
Near the end of the book, Sommer's wife visits him to announce their divorce. She cannot recognize the shattered man before her; not his looks, which have been ravaged, and not his mannerisms or actions.
When Sommer spits in her face it is too late: all hope was gone long before that irrevocable action. All hope was gone from the first moment he didn't spit out the kirsch poured from the mouth of his "reine d'alcool.
It is hard for me now to lift my own bottle without hearing an echo out of the depraved darkness of Sommer's emptied soul.
It was not published until after his death in of a morphine overdose. The narrator, Herr Sommer, owes his downfall to a serious lack of self-confidence as well as taking his success for granted, losing out to competition.
His relationship with his wife deteriorates. He feels threatened by her efficiency compared to his own lack of it.
He seeks escape through alcohol. He resents anyone and anything that exposes his vulnerabilities and becomes mired in vindictiveness. He is his own worst enemy time and again.
Sommer is routinely conflicted about his own state and trying to interpret the intentions of others. The narrative cuts to the bone of existential human misery.
Fallada was a great master at exposing inner thoughts and emotions. All are greatly recommended. They deal more with reality than fiction since they contain hundreds of observations and experiences of life which Fallada remembered and creatively wove into the fabric of his novels.
It isn't just booze he drinks in this man's self-destruction. What a horrifyingly strong story. Whether about the love of alcohol's good feeling or the times he and we live in!
About a third into the book I jumped to the back to read about the author and decided this guy is toxic and I don't need anymore of his negativity saturating my brain.
I had just finished The It isn't just booze he drinks in this man's self-destruction. I had just finished The Theory and Practice of Hell about Nazi concentration camps and I usually prefer to alternate downer books with lighter cozies.
Then within an hour there I was back reading "just another quick chapter" maybe like "just another quick drink" HaHa? When I had paused to read the notes about Fallada, I also snuck a peek at a couple paragraphs near the book's end.
It was the wee hours and I was tired with blurry eyes, so when I scanned the bit about his clandestine visits to the TB ward where the patients expectorate into little flasks and "I just drink them.
Well, I finished the book. Then thought about the title. Thought about how similar the nazi asylum was to the nazi camps. This book made me think, and I decided it was an outstanding read and how VERY appropriate the title, "The Drinker" really turned out to be.
Highly recommend. A respectable wholesale grocer gets into a fight with a swindler on the floor of a public toilet and is robbed of a cowhide briefcase and four thousand marks.
But when he leaves he leaves happily, because the brandy bottle in his pocket remains intact. The Drinker is a partly autobiographical novel, and a desperately self-critical one "I know that every single second of my life I have been a coward, I am a coward, I shall go on being a coward.
You wonder when it's going to let up and give you some peace. The second half, after the narrator is locked up and sent to an asylum, is far more engaging, describing in detail the squalor and the violence that surrounds him.
Hans Fallada knew what he was talking about: the novel was written while he was a resident of one of these very institutions.
Two books that I kept thinking of while reading this frank and depressing psychological work were 'Hunger' by Knut Hamsun also loosely autobiographical; also concerning the irrationality of the human mind and Daniel Paul Schreber's 'Memoirs of my Nervous Illness'.
The style is unpolished but that is understandable, given the circumstances of its composition, and that all pages were written in two weeks.
The plot rolls out with an all-pervading sense of inevitability. The conclusion is unbearably sad.
Hans Fallada — is one of those tragic literary figures whose life story seems to resonate through every page of his novels.
See my review. He was supposed to be writing another novel, one to suit the Nazi regime which had alternated between approval and harassment throughout his literary career.
What he wrote instead was the story of an undistinguished small businessman who takes up drinking with a vengeance and pays a terrible price.
What is on one level a sordid story of self-delusion and degradation is on another level a metaphor for the destruction of an individual by an oppressive state.
What can be said about this book? It is a semi-autobiographical novel about a small businessman who starts drinking one day and discovers he really likes it.
Really, really likes it. The feeling it gives him seems to put all the petty frustrations and disappointments of his life into perspective and as long as he keeps drinking, he doesn't have to deal with them anymore.
As to be expected however, things start to go badly. Not badly in the sense that he starts showing up late to work or gets a What can be said about this book?
Not badly in the sense that he starts showing up late to work or gets a divorce but rather cataclysmically badly. His descent into progressively more hellish worlds is startling in that with each drop, you feel he can't possibly fall much lower than this.
Surely this is where it ends right? Yet it doesn't. I gasped out loud several times at his horrible lack of judgement and I knew with a lump in the back of my throat where this was going to lead.
There is a nice biographical sketch of the author at the end of this book for those who don't know much of Fallada's life.
He seems to have been a profoundly introverted and sad man. Reading "The Drinker" I became painfully aware of this and so much more.
Painfully honest, not unlike Notes from Underground, this tale of a man gripped by the demon drink and compelled to follow it down as far as it will take him has been compared to the travails of the German collective soul in the second world war years during which it was written.
With a large glug of autobiography, the writing about drinking is stark and terrible - as in, it captures the awful beguiling nature of drink and the debilitating decisions it can lead one to if not addressed.
For this, Painfully honest, not unlike Notes from Underground, this tale of a man gripped by the demon drink and compelled to follow it down as far as it will take him has been compared to the travails of the German collective soul in the second world war years during which it was written.
For this, it is very special. It is not without moments where its pace drops, perhaps like the feeling of intoxication, but it is notable for the fact that anyone who has ever suspected that they drink perhaps a little too much and police themselves away from the edge will recognise the charm of the chasm and the all too believable depths it leads to.
The most shocking aspect is the blatant lies and deceptions one can play on oneself in the service of drink. I've read the novel several times, am currently enjoying it again, and probably will continue to do so every few years for the rest of my life One flew over the cuckoo's nest under the volcano.
Easy reading. Gripping, funny and tragic, all at the same time. Reminded me at times of Louis-Ferdinand Celine or even Dostojevski.
Fallada wrote this page novel about an alcoholic businessman in less than two weeks - I've read it in less than a day. The clear writing style and Fallada's storytelling artistry drag you inside and make you an addict - you just can't stop reading - if only for a day unlike the wretched and cowardly narrator Herr Sommer.
But this is not just an exciting and riveting pageturner, this novel is also a brilliant character study, study of a man gone astray not only physically but also morally - Fallada wrote this page novel about an alcoholic businessman in less than two weeks - I've read it in less than a day.
But this is not just an exciting and riveting pageturner, this novel is also a brilliant character study, study of a man gone astray not only physically but also morally - although the seed of corruption was already within Herr Sommer as he likes to be called , despite his upstanding social status as a respected enterpreneur.
The fact that the events in the novel are drawn from the author's own experience, makes one shudder, and somehow admire Fallada even more.
I almost gave up on this book. But since I love Fallada's writing I was determined to stay with it. It's not the writing but the unrelenting grimness of the story.
This may seem like a diversion but stay with me. I'm a devout Catholic. As a Catholic I believe in solidarity.
The protagonist in this book, Erwin Sommer, is for me the model of the purely autonomous man. Any helping hand that comes his way he rejects.
He is convinced he can overcome his demons by force of will. Some can but most can' I almost gave up on this book. Some can but most can't.
You don't need to rely on God, though I think it helps. But at some point everyone has to rely on someone.
Our stubbornness is often our fatal flaw. For me The Drinker, beautifully written, atmospheric, to me is a case study on the drawing man to proud to yell for help.
Golda Meir said it beautifully many years ago: "Don't be so humble On the face of it, the protagonist, Erwin Sommer, a middle-aged, moderately successful businessman, lives a comfortable middle-class existence with his wife Magda.
But when he suffers a few disappointments — foremost, the loss of a lucrative, long-standing commercial contract — Sommer undergoes what is probably best described as a mid-life crisis, where he realises that his life and marriage thus far have been completely unfulfilling affairs.
Having professed no particular liking or attachment to alcohol in the past he abhorred the smell of wine and would only ever partake of the odd glass of beer , Sommer goes on a quite spectacular drinking binge, indulging in strong drink schnapps by the bottle, a binge which sees him act in a completely outrageous and out-of-character way — seducing barmaids, stealing the family silver and physically attacking his wife.
But this is no more than self-deception, a sadly familiar alcoholic delusion, which drags Sommer even deeper into the gutter. Exploited and robbed blind by an unscrupulous villain, Sommer is eventually arrested and interned in a mental institute for many months.
Housed alongside a parade of hopeless, semi-starved degenerates, Sommer hits rock bottom. When hopes of reconciliation with his wife are roundly dashed, his mind once again turns to the consoling, comfortable properties of alcohol — which proves disastrous.
Said to be autobiographical, The Drinker concludes with one of the most unsettling, truly sickeningly self-destructive final scenes perhaps symbolic of alcoholism itself imaginable.
A powerful, affecting read. A man's life descends into chaos when he starts drinking. I thought elements of this book were really, such as the chaotic actions of the man when he'd been drinking, but it was too long and rambling.
Reading time around four hours. Soul-crushing at its finest. Made even more difficult for me as a former alcoholic -- I see so much of my behavior of the past in this novel's "protagonist," and I've been told this was largely autobiographical.
Oh, the fucking hopelessness of it all. Never mind. I won't forget this one any time soon and now must acquire more Fallada.
How unreliable is the unreliable narrator? Last year, his final novel "Every Man Di How unreliable is the unreliable narrator?
Last year, his final novel "Every Man Dies Alone," became a surprise bestseller 60 years after he wrote it, a fitting tribute to a trouble life.
In Nazi Germany, he was committed to an insane asylum during the war as his marriage broke down because of his drinking problem.
Yet we are confronted with the question of how an author who obviously felt himself at odds with the ruling system could write a novel like this and it not, somehow, be about the evil all around him.
But let us come back to that. From the moment Erich Sommer enjoys a bottle of wine with his wife, we can see his self-control slip away as he warms to alcohol.
But there is more to it than that. Erich tells us that he also gives his wife some money to ease over a quarrel, and that this is a ruse - he is really masking the fact that his business is not doing well.
We know that he feels animosity toward his wife, Magda, because she is better at running the business than he is. His anxiety blossoms to jealousy, rage and self-pity under the alcohol, and soon he is making eyes at a bar maid, just for another glass of schnapps.