‘The Reader’ – A Review

Whilst there often seem to be films made about the Second World War, or the Holocaust, the usual perspective (at least of the ones that I have seen) seem to be from the side of the Allies, or mainly showing the Allies as heroes, and All Germany as out-and-out villains. Maybe I haven’t been watching the right films…

However, the thing which struck me most about ‘The Reader’ was the remarkably detached view it took of the horrific events of the Holocaust. Unlike many films, which seem to want to depict the horror in as graphic and shocking detail as they can (whilst still being acceptable for public viewing) ‘The Reader’ showed us no deaths, no mass murders, and the only glimpse of the gas chambers was as they are now, in the museum which is on the site of Auschwitz. This, to me, was not exactly refreshing, that’s not the right word. But illuminating. Interesting. Moving, most definitely.

The story, for those who don’t know it, focuses on a young man (fifteen at the start of the film) and his relationship with a much older woman. It starts in the fifties, when this woman, Hanna, is about 30. The two swiftly develop a strong attraction for one another, and begin an illicit relationship. The love the two share is not portrayed as wrong or immoral in any way, which was the most peculiar thing for me about this part of the film. One would think that any adult who has sex with a minor is breaking consent laws, etc etc. But it wasn’t shown like that, and you didn’t see it like that. The boy, Michael, was however shown rejecting his own age group for this woman, and you gradually became aware of his growing isolation. This moving portrait of a strongly unbalanced relationship was allowed to develop, until suddenly Hanna abandons him. This comes as a shock to the audience as much as it does to Michael, and David Kross (who played the young Michael) was beautiful in his despair at this loss.

It was only at this point forward that we began to realise that what had seemed at first a healthy, natural relationship might have anything other than positive consequences. Interjected with scenes of Michael as an adult (played by Ralph Fiennes, and living a relatively solitary existence) we see the young Michael, working towards a law degree on a course where he seems to have few close friends. Empathising with him all the way, the audience too is thrown into turmoil with him when, with the rest of his class, he sits in on a trial of women SS guards accused of crimes against the Jewish prisoners under their jurisdiction. Hanna is among the accused.

From this point forward, the film took on a more moralising note, as debates between the students focussed on the possible responses to the actions of Nazis during the time of Hitler’s dictatorship. The question of guilt and culpability was debated soundly, both during the trial scenes and during the scenes in the classrooms outside of the courts. It was this approach which gave the film the added dimension that I feel other films on the same subject lack. By debating the issue onscreen, ‘The Reader’ allowed its audience the time to think through their own thoughts and work out whether or not they disagreed with the views expressed onscreen.

There are other plot details which I do not want to give away – go and see it for yourselves; it may not be a fast-paced edge-of-your-seat movie, like some, but it is because of this very depth and thoughtfulness that I feel this film is truly special. The powerful and sensitive way with which both the Holocaust itself (there were some beautiful and haunting scenes within Auschwitz as it is now) and also the aftermath of the Holocaust were dealt with give the film its power and grace, and being made to think is something cinema doesn’t often give us the chance to do nowadays. And as well as that, the story – being as it is, a very human story of awakening and growing up, and love - catches the audience fully. It was so beautifully and simply expressed that the effect of the film as a whole was quite breathtaking, and left the audience in silence at the end.