The 57th Berlinale, as the festival here is known, might best be thought of as an average festival. Not only because the films were generally so-so, with a few outright disasters balancing some high-quality work, but also because it seemed to typify what a film festival is these days. Once a bastion of difficulty and high seriousness–an identity that suited an event held in midwinter in a city with a vexed, often grim history–the Berlinale, which began last Thursday and concludes with awards on Sunday–has grown into something bigger, more varied and perhaps less distinctive. A.O. Scott gives his take on the Berlin International Film Festival, which concludes this weekend.