This film is a love-letter about people from the perspective of a filmmaker. This is a story unique to film, as its narrative throughline of observation and preservation is naturally exhibited in the medium of film. Wim Wenders and the film's angels serve as witnesses of moments in time and verifies through recording, capturing the spectrum of what it means to live, from its momentous to mundane. There's little interpretation with the film closing on dedication to Wim Wenders' fellow filmmakers, Yasujiro Ozu, Francois Truffaut, and Andrej Tarkovsky. Angels observe humans at a distance, for the purpose of testifying and preserving events. The beauty of humanity is sometimes the implicit perspective taken, though experienced in black-and-white. During the perspective of Angels, observing and listening, we're asked as viewers to endure lingering scenes, and look, and look. You're asked if beauty reveals itself to you in these curated moments. In an ambulance ride to give birth, in a kid's tea party, in a dance, in a visit to long-gone home, in a man reading The Odyssey to a child, in a woman folding an umbrella to walk in the rain.

Color is another aspect used tastefully. Whenever we assume perspective of the humans, the image is striking. Wenders captures the indescribible wonder masterfully, and Damiel reflects on his (and our) unexplainable lens through colour: I now know what no angel knows

A filmmaker's role is to decide what is seen. They record, and preserve the 'now' in time. This film makes this clear through interspersal of actual archival footage that blends into the film's naturally archival nature through footage of Berlin and its wall in 1987.