The idea
of
‘surviving’
the
Holocaust
takes on
many
nuances
in
Stefan
Ruzowitzky’s
stark
and
intriguing
evocation
of a
largely
unknown
area of
Second
World
War
German
history:
the use
of
skilled
prisoners
to
create
counterfeit
currency
for
Operation
Bernhard,
a plan
to flood
the
British
and
American
economies
with
fake
cash.
Ruzowitzky
gives us
Salomon
Sorowitsch
(Karl
Markovics),
a
successful,
Jewish
forger
in the
pre-war
Berlin
of 1936
whose
instinct
for
self-preservation,
in
peacetime
as well
as war,
is best
summed
up by
his
nonchalant
attitude
to the
creeping
pogrom:
‘I am me
– and
the
others
are the
others.’
Hours later, Salomon is arrested, and for the rest of the ’30s and until the end of the war he finds himself putting his skills to a different use, first in Mauthausen and later Sachenshausen. He discovers that sketching Nazi officers brings a reward of better food, and soon his hosts transfer him to the ‘golden cage’, a hot-house of industry in the corner of a camp where uptight ex-bankers and criminals collude in producing dodgy notes in an environment of relative comfort. The film’s core dilemma emerges when the team are on the verge of cracking the dollar: if they continue, will they betray whatever political instincts they have left? And, if they succeed, will they become surplus to requirements and lose their privileges or, worse, be killed?
It’s the latter quandary which highlights some of the film’s curious and daring psychologies. We’re well-versed in Holocaust dramas in which the Nazis and the Jews are treated as separate, homogeneous entities; here, things are more complex. War doesn’t bestow a new personality on Salomon, it simply offers a new context within which this lone gun – his background is strikingly sketchy – must survive. More importantly, Ruzowitzky is aware that not all moral standards can survive the perversity of the Holocaust. As such, we’re invited to observe the behaviour in this studio within the greater theatre of war and rarely to judge, even when it comes to the Nazis. Ruzowitzky handles this perspective to excellent effect: despite our awareness of the Holocaust, we only see what Salomon sees – or, crucially, wants to see – even though we, like him, can hear the sound of gun-shots outside. He directs with urgency, lingering little, employing ample jolt-zooms and dousing his film in a colour palette that takes its cue from the grey stripes of the prisoners’ uniforms.
His meshing of plot with debate is impressive. His film is compelling and clever.
Hours later, Salomon is arrested, and for the rest of the ’30s and until the end of the war he finds himself putting his skills to a different use, first in Mauthausen and later Sachenshausen. He discovers that sketching Nazi officers brings a reward of better food, and soon his hosts transfer him to the ‘golden cage’, a hot-house of industry in the corner of a camp where uptight ex-bankers and criminals collude in producing dodgy notes in an environment of relative comfort. The film’s core dilemma emerges when the team are on the verge of cracking the dollar: if they continue, will they betray whatever political instincts they have left? And, if they succeed, will they become surplus to requirements and lose their privileges or, worse, be killed?
It’s the latter quandary which highlights some of the film’s curious and daring psychologies. We’re well-versed in Holocaust dramas in which the Nazis and the Jews are treated as separate, homogeneous entities; here, things are more complex. War doesn’t bestow a new personality on Salomon, it simply offers a new context within which this lone gun – his background is strikingly sketchy – must survive. More importantly, Ruzowitzky is aware that not all moral standards can survive the perversity of the Holocaust. As such, we’re invited to observe the behaviour in this studio within the greater theatre of war and rarely to judge, even when it comes to the Nazis. Ruzowitzky handles this perspective to excellent effect: despite our awareness of the Holocaust, we only see what Salomon sees – or, crucially, wants to see – even though we, like him, can hear the sound of gun-shots outside. He directs with urgency, lingering little, employing ample jolt-zooms and dousing his film in a colour palette that takes its cue from the grey stripes of the prisoners’ uniforms.
His meshing of plot with debate is impressive. His film is compelling and clever.
Information source: Time Out