A lazy Sunday at the lake, a picnic, a bit of flirting—on paper, not much to hang a film on. Yet People on Sunday carries the peculiar weight of history. Shot in 1929 with non-actors, it freezes a Berlin just before friends—it's playful in ways that still feel familiar. These aren't the Weimar years of smoky cabarets and Lisa Minnelli cosplay, but ordinary Berliners joking, lounging, and living.
What keeps it from feeling like a museum piece is the humour. A squabble over sandwiches, a bit of clowning in the lake, the gentle digs between friends—it's playful in ways that still feel familiar. These aren't the Weimar years of smoky cabarets and Liza Minnelli cosplay, but ordinary Berliners joking, lounging, and living.
It isn't gripping cinema, but as a time capsule—funny, fleeting, fragile—it's worth opening.