Matty

My Sweet Little Village without Menzel’s refined touch. Both when he is at home in his dingy studio apartment and when he is at work, the solitary truck driver played by Vlado Müller sticks to his routines, which long sections of the plot are dedicated to depicting. In her only film role, Pavla Kárníková portrays his unpunctual assistant, who conversely has no respect for order or authority. They can’t stand each other at first. They’re sure about that in advance. He sees her as a “whore” and a “bitch”, while for her, he is a grumpy “old man”. Through their dark past, however, they gradually find common ground and come to realise that it is possible to step out of the roles to which they have become accustomed or that society has assigned to them. In his case, it is the role of a curmudgeonly bachelor who holds others at arm’s length, whereas her role is that of a troubled “slut”. Unable to express their feelings in a healthy way, the two outsiders come together during Advent, and the undecorated tree and lonely Christmas dinner add a sense of melancholy to the raw, authentically gritty story. In the context of the collaborative works of Kachyňa and Procházka, Christmas with Elizabeth fits in with Hope, which took a similarly humane approach to depicting the relationship between a prostitute and an alcoholic, other social outcasts who in the 1950s were condemned to the roles of criminals unworthy of any understanding. 75%

Though throughout most of the film we don’t see anything other than an outwardly ordinary German family, the layered soundtrack, which mixes the chirping of birds and the murmur of a river with a constant mechanical drone, evokes an almost indefinable feeling from the first minutes, a feeling that something intimately familiar seems strange and oppressive. The resulting effect is best described by the term “unheimlich” from Freud’s psychoanalysis, i.e. uncanny. Zone of Interest is extremely disturbing in its ability to capture the abnormality of the everyday. ___ The unchanging, rigid apathy of the depicted world is underscored by predominantly static shots without artificial lighting and with great depth of field. The cameras are positioned in different corners of the house and garden like in a reality TV show. They record the movements of the actors without artistic stylisation, thus evoking an impression of the distant past. Not even the editing adheres to the principles of standard narrative cinema. The switching between cameras depends on which room a character has just entered. Everything thus seemingly takes place in the present tense. Subjectivity and creativity, or rather the possibility of averting one’s gaze and disrupting the order of things, are suppressed. The tasks that Höss carries out are mindless administrative work. Genocide is a logistical process. ___  If we wanted to locate the source of the tension that pervades the whole film, it would be the clash between what the Hösses are willing to see and what happens outside of their house and garden. Glazer’s distinct style is a form of rejection. He consistently avoids aestheticizing one of the greatest tragedies of modern history. At the same time, he succeeds in using empty space in a way that is far more powerful than direct depiction. Because we cannot see the other side, we are aware of what is happening there. Our effort to fill this gap leads to the fact that we cannot stop thinking about the ongoing violence. ___ Glazer also included night scenes shot with a special thermal camera. This involves a reconstruction of the story of a ninety-year-old Polish woman named Alexandra, whom Glazer met during his research. She became for him a symbol of resistance, a light in the darkness. Taking into account the perspective of those who actively resisted Nazism is one of the few elements that Zone of Interest shares with more conventional dramas about the Holocaust. Where other Oscar-winning dramas offer catharsis and a reassurance that humanity will ultimately prevail, Zone of Interest offers only a disturbing presentiment of things to come. We see that the concentration camp has become a museum where cleaners mechanically vacuum the dust and polish the display cases. A single glance inside the death factory peculiarly does not reveal any atrocities. Rather, it is characterised by the same emotionless routine that we saw in the Hösses’ bourgeois household. We have become accustomed to the presence of the Holocaust in our collective memory and in the media space. Zone of Interest shines a light on the mundanity, banality and elusiveness of the evil to which we contribute merely by remaining indifferent. 90%

The Goldman Case is a masterclass in how to grippingly direct (and edit!) a courtroom drama that takes place almost entirely in a single room without needless embellishments (and, furthermore, is shot in the television format that corresponds to the time when the trial was held). In terms of acting and the screenplay, The Goldman Case is equal to Anatomy of a Fall, at whose centre stands a similarly complicated character and which raises similar questions (Doesn’t the one who can tell the more convincing story and give a better performance win in court? Do words have more weight than actions in the end?). And though it involves a case from the 1970s (a left-wing Jewish activist denies murder charges), in the second plane the film delivers an almost sociological overview of French society at the time, the clash between the right and the left that plays out in the courtroom, the inability to see a person outside of the box in which we have placed them based on their political orientation or background, and the unwillingness to see that some facts can be black and white at the same time, all of which is in some ways reminiscent of today’s culture wars. 85%