Almost hometown boy Wim Wenders

This picture taken on May 24, 2008, during the 61st International Cannes Film Festival shows German director Wim Wenders holding his camera as he poses upon arriving to attend the screening of his film 'The Palermo Shooting'. )

In the true German spirit, let's not beat around the bush.

When the 14th edition of San Francisco's Berlin and Beyond Festival opens Thursday, there is no question that it will include a program of more than 29 of the most exceptional films that have come out of Germany, Austria and Switzerland during the past year.

And to be German - ahem - blunt, the biggest highlight in this year's festival is the San Francisco homecoming of Wim Wenders.

The Düsseldorf native and onetime San Francisco resident returns to his favorite American city after the Jan. 20 screening of his latest film, "Palermo Shooting." In anticipation of our adopted hometown hero, The Chronicle checked in with the director via e-mail to get his take on the meaning of life and other existential items.

Q: As a student, you always got A's in art. What subjects did you typically fail in and why? Do any of those subjects interest you more now or since?

A: My problems were strictly in mathematics and in Latin. I still have an aversion against any sort of calculation, but nine years of Latin came in handy in the long run. I learned Spanish and French easily, and even if I never studied Italian for a moment, I can read it, and not just on a menu.

Q: While living in Paris, you often watched up to six films in a row. When was the last time you watched that many (or thereabouts) films in a row? Which films would they have been?

A: Four in a row was the most I've seen in years, lately, and that was on one day on duty as jury president at the Venice Film festival last September.

Q: Since you had a near-death experience connected to accidentally eating baked goods laced with hash, do you ever get nervous when someone offers you cookies?

A: I'm still a cookie monster. But if they're self-made, I tend to be a bit suspicious. Like I would smell first. ... That near-death experience and the heart attack at 24 made me a different human being. I can joke about it now, sure, but I don't know how my life would have turned out otherwise. I went through an eight-year psychoanalysis as a result of the trauma, and I feel that made me a much more conscious person. No, not so much self-conscious, rather aware of the need and troubles of others. I do have a strong aversion against any drugs since. There's nothing better than being alive, and I have no need for any improvement whatsoever of my senses or my sensibility. I get sad talking to people on drugs or on alcohol. It's such a waste.

Q: In the documentary, you say about the character and his isolated landscape in "Summer in the City": "That was me." Since that was in 1970, when was the most recent time you could so clearly identify with one of your film's characters?

A: With all of them, in one way or another. They all do things that reflect my experiences, or they look at the world through "my eyes," so to speak. I make very personal movies. Not "private" ones, though. My private life doesn't concern anybody. But I believe that only personal stories matter. When I go see a film myself, I want to get involved with somebody's personal vision of the world. TV gives us enough impersonal bull- already. ... Come to think of it, I'm really close to the character of my new film "Palermo Shooting" that I will present in San Francisco in January. His name is Finn. He is a photographer, and he has a face-to-face meeting with Death (in the person of Dennis Hopper). Finn is a truly contemporary man, with all the flaws and defaults of that species. He has so much on his plate that he's unable to live in the present tense anymore. He's always already on the next task, in a future he can never reach, of course. So he is missing his entire life. Until that rendezvous with Death ... Who turns out to be not such a badass as we always make him look like.

Q: During your seven years of living in the United States, how did you change/grow and what things made you change/grow?

A: I spent two times seven or eight years in America. First from 1978 to 1985. I was young then and naive and figured I could make "American movies" and maybe even become "an American." I learned the hard way that my profession was that of a European filmmaker, and that I was totally unable to make an American film. And I finally came to terms, in America, that I was a German in my soul, actually a German romantic, and I learned to accept that. Which was a good thing. When I lived in America for a second, longer time, from 1996 to just a couple of years ago, I enjoyed myself much more. I didn't come with false expectations. I knew what I was good at, and who I was. I love America very much. I love the American landscape, the people, and what this country used to stand for. Well, soon I can say this in the present tense again, which is great.

Q: Where do you feel most at home and why?

A: I've never really relied on places to feel at home in. I can feel at home in many places in the world. I can say that because I know how homesick I can get for many places. Like right now, doing this interview for The San Francisco Chronicle, I get a complete craze for North Beach. I wish I could walk up Columbus to Tosca and have a hot chocolate with brandy, and a talk with Jeannette (Etheredge). I'm instantly homesick for San Francisco. Watch the fog crawl over the hills! Have a steak at John's Grill! See a movie at the Castro!

Q: Where do you feel least at home and why?

A: I do not feel at home wherever there is prejudice and hostility to anybody because of his (or her) color, sex or class.

Q: When was the last time a work of art (music, film, painting, etc.) made you cry?

A: I saw a great Paul Klee exhibition not long ago. ... The last songs that made me cry were by a young New York singer, Kelley McRae. One was called "Time," and the other one "Break Us."

Q: Music has played an integral role in your films. Is there a musician or song that you most closely identify with as a character?

A: Impossible to bring that down to one song. I made a film called "Soul of a Man" in honor of my great blues heroes Blind Willie Johnson, Skip James and J.B. Lenoir. That film would be my answer.

Q: If you could travel in time and change one thing in history - personal or for the world - where would you go and what would you do?

A: It would be good to travel to Vienna in 1907, and help Adolf Hitler to get accepted at the Academy of Fine Arts. Imagine if he could have made his living as a painter, no matter how modest his talent might have been.

Q: If you could design your own tombstone, what would it look/read like?

A: I'm happy that this is none of my worries.

Q: What is the meaning of life?

A: You see, I'm both convinced that we're seen by a loving God and that there's nothing but purpose to our lives. So my answer is sheer optimism: To love others just as much as we love ourselves and to live our lives fully, together with and for others.

BERLIN AND BEYOND: The 14th Annual Berlin and Beyond Festival runs Thurs. through Jan. 21 at the Castro Theatre, 419 Castro St., S.F. (415) 621-6120.