An absolutely mesmerizing piece of art that challenges and provokes the audience, while also depicting a morbid yet enticingly original perspective on the most infamous and horrific tragedy of all time. Johnathon Glazer's Zone of Interest is not a film to merely watch, but rather one to be absorbed. A paradoxical film, where the most important and powerful images are the ones we never get to see.
The concept of the withholding of art being the overarching meaning behind the work certainly isn't reinventing the wheel, but Glazer's presentation and execution puts a spin on the concept in such a unique and cryptic way, it will have you asking yourself if such an idea can ever be done in cinema again.
The "withholding" begins with the opening of the film. Before the title is flashed onto screen, the audience is treated to a 3-minute synthetic overture in total darkness. A choice that will have you wondering if the projectionist forgot to take off the camera lid. While from a distance it may come across as a mundane or pretentious decision from an amateur director, Glazer is already subjecting the audience to the ethos of his film. The focus is on what we don't see.
As Mica Levi's haunting, Aphex Twin remiscent score comes to a close, we are treated to the first image of the film, the Höss family. And for the next 2 hours, we are treated to only images of the Höss family. Never once do we as an audience get to actually witness the horrors of what lies beyond the concentration camp walls. However, that does not mean we are spared.
Throughout the film, we feel the effects of the Holocaust without ever truly seeing it. Whether it be the blood-orange glow of the burnt Jewish bodies from the Auschwitz chimney being cast through the window pane of Hedwig Höss' (Sandra Huëller) upstairs guest room. The dichotomy of the Hoss children's playful laughs paired against the sorrowful howls of the tortured souls of the next door death camp. Or the dust remains of decayed Jewish skeletons dumped into the nearby river, ruining Rudolph Höss' (Christian Friedel) canoe adventure with his children. Suffering is felt at every corner of this film. Glazer masterfully crops out the harsh images of the Holocaust, but keeps them just close enough so their presence is still unavoidable. A feeling of historical tragedy that still rings true today.
The film is a slow-burn, to say the least. There's never truly an inciting incident, an overly graphic scene of violence, or even really a definitive plot.
Yet that is where the art of this film lies, in its subtlety.
By introducing images and story-lines that are never fully realized, finished, or even acknowledged, Glazer keeps the audience on its toes by providing only a short glimpse into this family's life, all paired against the gargantuan looming walls of Auschwitz. We see young romance, joust between siblings, and family values, all without ever really learning anything about the family. We are never directly given names, ages, what their hobbies or interests are. Only minute glances at what middle-upper class German family life in the 40s would be ... next to a death camp of course.
Oh yeah, the Höss family's idyllic suburban home with 6 rooms and a garden that rivals that of Francis Hodgson Burnett's, is built directly next to the infamous Auschwitz death camp. A property line that excites the family, Rudolph in particular.
Rudolph, or Rudy as his wife likes to call him, is the patriarch of the family. A high-ranking officer for the Third Reich, he is one of the head guards at Auschwitz. He is a cold-blooded methodical man, who focuses on efficiency, and has a true love for his work. His wife on the other hand, Hedwig, is a high-ranking officer in an of herself. She runs the Höss family establishment, caring for 5 rambunctious children, enlisting the help of local girls for household duties, and doing whatever necessary to achieve the dream life she had ever since she was a girl, a big house and family.
This description of a traditional working man, a traditional wife and their traditional family doesn't sound like much to chew on, but with the next door screams of the innocent reminding the audience who this family is, the film could not feel more tense. To portray a family of Nazis as just your average boring family, reminiscent of an American family in the 50s, is daring, to say the least. But this is exactly Glazer's intention, to bring a perspective on tragedy we have never seen before. One that, from a distance, doesn't seem harmful. But on a closer inspection, finding that the distance is the harm.
Glazer however, doesn't only ever submit the audience to monotonous montages of basic family life, though it is prevalent. He instead uses the effect of monotony to then surprise his audience with choices an ideas that would never be seen in a period piece. Every so often, the film will deliver a cryptic sequence or audio effect that is a complete betrayal of the historical drama formula. The first, and most reoccurring of which, being an inverted color, night vision setting on the camera. Without warning, the film will switch to this bizarre camera setting, breaking away from the established world of the film. This subversion adds to the artistic and innovative vision of Glazer, while also avoiding gimmick.
The film also has an incredible use of sound design, straying away from historical drama cliches. Rather than including songs or sounds from the 40s, Glazer utilizes the work of sound designer Johnnie Burns to craft a heavy and electronic approach that adds an incredible depth to the film. The sound bellows throughout the theatre and shakes you to your very core. This choice proves to be another masterful decision by Glazer, as it amplifies an undeniable sense of impending doom and scale that no other design could depict.
The Zone of Interest is one of the most intrinsically haunting pieces of art I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Its performances, originality, and lead by Johnathon Glazer undeniably makes it the best from Cannes, and one of the best films I've seen in the past decade, if not the best. Its subtlety, unique perspective, and daring choices creates a breathtaking atmosphere and movie-going experience. It's as impressive as a film can get, and represents a true understanding and mastering of cinema as an art form.
10 out of 10.
The concept of the withholding of art being the overarching meaning behind the work certainly isn't reinventing the wheel, but Glazer's presentation and execution puts a spin on the concept in such a unique and cryptic way, it will have you asking yourself if such an idea can ever be done in cinema again.
The "withholding" begins with the opening of the film. Before the title is flashed onto screen, the audience is treated to a 3-minute synthetic overture in total darkness. A choice that will have you wondering if the projectionist forgot to take off the camera lid. While from a distance it may come across as a mundane or pretentious decision from an amateur director, Glazer is already subjecting the audience to the ethos of his film. The focus is on what we don't see.
As Mica Levi's haunting, Aphex Twin remiscent score comes to a close, we are treated to the first image of the film, the Höss family. And for the next 2 hours, we are treated to only images of the Höss family. Never once do we as an audience get to actually witness the horrors of what lies beyond the concentration camp walls. However, that does not mean we are spared.
Throughout the film, we feel the effects of the Holocaust without ever truly seeing it. Whether it be the blood-orange glow of the burnt Jewish bodies from the Auschwitz chimney being cast through the window pane of Hedwig Höss' (Sandra Huëller) upstairs guest room. The dichotomy of the Hoss children's playful laughs paired against the sorrowful howls of the tortured souls of the next door death camp. Or the dust remains of decayed Jewish skeletons dumped into the nearby river, ruining Rudolph Höss' (Christian Friedel) canoe adventure with his children. Suffering is felt at every corner of this film. Glazer masterfully crops out the harsh images of the Holocaust, but keeps them just close enough so their presence is still unavoidable. A feeling of historical tragedy that still rings true today.
The film is a slow-burn, to say the least. There's never truly an inciting incident, an overly graphic scene of violence, or even really a definitive plot.
Yet that is where the art of this film lies, in its subtlety.
By introducing images and story-lines that are never fully realized, finished, or even acknowledged, Glazer keeps the audience on its toes by providing only a short glimpse into this family's life, all paired against the gargantuan looming walls of Auschwitz. We see young romance, joust between siblings, and family values, all without ever really learning anything about the family. We are never directly given names, ages, what their hobbies or interests are. Only minute glances at what middle-upper class German family life in the 40s would be ... next to a death camp of course.
Oh yeah, the Höss family's idyllic suburban home with 6 rooms and a garden that rivals that of Francis Hodgson Burnett's, is built directly next to the infamous Auschwitz death camp. A property line that excites the family, Rudolph in particular.
Rudolph, or Rudy as his wife likes to call him, is the patriarch of the family. A high-ranking officer for the Third Reich, he is one of the head guards at Auschwitz. He is a cold-blooded methodical man, who focuses on efficiency, and has a true love for his work. His wife on the other hand, Hedwig, is a high-ranking officer in an of herself. She runs the Höss family establishment, caring for 5 rambunctious children, enlisting the help of local girls for household duties, and doing whatever necessary to achieve the dream life she had ever since she was a girl, a big house and family.
This description of a traditional working man, a traditional wife and their traditional family doesn't sound like much to chew on, but with the next door screams of the innocent reminding the audience who this family is, the film could not feel more tense. To portray a family of Nazis as just your average boring family, reminiscent of an American family in the 50s, is daring, to say the least. But this is exactly Glazer's intention, to bring a perspective on tragedy we have never seen before. One that, from a distance, doesn't seem harmful. But on a closer inspection, finding that the distance is the harm.
Glazer however, doesn't only ever submit the audience to monotonous montages of basic family life, though it is prevalent. He instead uses the effect of monotony to then surprise his audience with choices an ideas that would never be seen in a period piece. Every so often, the film will deliver a cryptic sequence or audio effect that is a complete betrayal of the historical drama formula. The first, and most reoccurring of which, being an inverted color, night vision setting on the camera. Without warning, the film will switch to this bizarre camera setting, breaking away from the established world of the film. This subversion adds to the artistic and innovative vision of Glazer, while also avoiding gimmick.
The film also has an incredible use of sound design, straying away from historical drama cliches. Rather than including songs or sounds from the 40s, Glazer utilizes the work of sound designer Johnnie Burns to craft a heavy and electronic approach that adds an incredible depth to the film. The sound bellows throughout the theatre and shakes you to your very core. This choice proves to be another masterful decision by Glazer, as it amplifies an undeniable sense of impending doom and scale that no other design could depict.
The Zone of Interest is one of the most intrinsically haunting pieces of art I have ever had the pleasure of witnessing. Its performances, originality, and lead by Johnathon Glazer undeniably makes it the best from Cannes, and one of the best films I've seen in the past decade, if not the best. Its subtlety, unique perspective, and daring choices creates a breathtaking atmosphere and movie-going experience. It's as impressive as a film can get, and represents a true understanding and mastering of cinema as an art form.
10 out of 10.