One of the most successful German films of recent memory, The Baader Meinhof Complex achieved something rare for the national cinema in that it achieved international success (in relative terms) and was even nominated for the Academy Award for Best Foreign Language Film. So the decision taken by director Andres Veiel to re-visit some of those characters and events in his first non-documentary feature, and barely four years later, is either inspired or foolish. It turns out it's pitched somewhere in between. If the press release for Wer wenn nicht wir (If Not Us, Who) is anything to go by, the approach of the filmmakers has been to put their fingers in their ears and refuse to acknowledge the other movie's existence. And it's a response that works for a while and you forget the other superior film. That is until Andreas Baader (Alexander Fehling) turns up halfway through and we see some of the same events again from a less involving viewpoint and shot in a less stylish manner. Though to bemoan the lack of visual flair might be to miss the point of If Not Us, Who. This film is not about examining the myth and popular culture significance of the radical terrorist cell, positioning them as a more contemporary Bonnie and Clyde in the way Uli Edel's film did. Instead it shifts the focus to a character that only existed on the margins of the last film, and the movement itself, in Bernwerd Vesper (August Diehl). The son of a Nazi author and husband of future Baader partner Gudrun Ensslin (Lena Lauzemis), Vesper sets up a publishing house specialising in American political literature - from groups such as the Black Panthers - translated by Ensslin into German. This venture starts out as a pet project in order to re-evaluate his father's legacy by re-publishing his out of favour pro-Nazi writings, in the hope that they find new critical acceptance for their literary value. However as time goes on Vesper and Ensslin become more politically active and more left-wing, eventually coming to associate with the future terrorists through there interest in political writing. But whereas Vesper is primarily interested in using inspiring prose to effect change, Esslin grows to believe the view that only violent struggle can ever succeed. But the interesting part of the film is the earlier half, dealing with his father's works and with the subjectivity of morality. What the film looks at is the question of how much ideology should be allowed to effect our appreciation of art as well as looking at the hypocrisy involved in selecting which ideologies are acceptable. Vesper's father's Nazi writings are culturally incorrect whatever their literary worth, whereas the texts of other political forces are viewed differently (history being written by the winners). In a political meeting Vesper hears his father criticised by the revolutionary students, even whilst they talk of blowing up department stores. Ensslin's father does like her associating with Vesper even though he joined up to fight for the Third Reich during the war. Institutions like Vesper's university, the politicians and the law courts are similarly hypocritical, decrying the violent revolutionary language of student protesters whilst being uncritical of the US Army (then an occupying power in West Berlin) as they napalm innocent Vietnamese. These contradictions are highlighted by archive footage, which is both amusing and disturbing, and which ironically juxtaposes pop with scenes of grim death and nuclear testing - showing that there is more than enough inhumanity to go around, between nation states and political systems. But this intriguing enough strand in the film's first half is not actually the primary concern of the filmmakers, who instead spend a great deal more time on the psychology of Ensslin's sexual encounters and on her marriage to Vesper and affair with Baader. This is less unique or appealing and grows wearisome as the film lurches towards the end of its 124 minute running time.