Before The Zone of Interest’s first frame — a family enjoying an idyllic day at a lakeside grove — comes several minutes of complete darkness, accompanied by eerie electronic tones. This contrast between domestic lightness and sinister evil pervades every film scene. All viewers see is a happy family going about their lives, but lingering just beneath the film’s surface are unspeakable horrors that are impossible to ignore.
Jonathan Glazer’s new Holocaust film is undeniably engrossing, and a deeply uncomfortable watch by design. The Zone of Interest is aided by visuals as beautiful as they are chilling and a haunting sound design by Johnnie Burn. The experimental film is the director’s first in a decade, but its disturbing relevance makes it one of the most essential works of 2023.
The film follows Rudolf Höss, the real-life figure who served intermittently as commandant of Auschwitz from 1940 to 1944. He and his wife, Hedwig, along with their five children, live in a home that is essentially adjoined to the camp.
On the outer edge of Hedwig’s carefully tended flower garden stands the concrete wall that separates their property from the compound. Auschwitz was one of the most notorious concentration camps the Nazis operated during the Second World War. Notably, Glazer never offers a glimpse into the camp itself — it only looms visually and aurally over nearly every frame.
The film was recently nominated for a bevy of Academy Awards, including Best Director for Glazer and Best Picture. Following the nominations, the initially limited theatrical release was expanded — it is now playing in theatres across Canada and the U.S.
The Zone of Interest consistently sidesteps any kind of conventional narrative structure or character arc. The plot, as such, deals only with the mundane home life of the Höss family — some small conflicts arise and are quickly resolved. The characters, too, show nothing in the way of growth or reflection at any point.
Although the film largely eludes feeling, it is anchored by two excellent leading performances from Christian Friedel and Sandra Hüller. These are certainly not characters that invite emotional connection, but Friedel and Hüller’s plumbing of normalcy out of psychotic subjects is chillingly compelling. By diving so fearlessly into these difficult roles, they demand from the audience a similarly uncomfortable and sober-minded introspection.
This unconventional approach elevates the film to a poignant and self-reflective work of commentary. Glazer’s is the latest contribution to a decades-old discourse over how historical atrocities like the Holocaust should be depicted. Just as Schindler’s List (1993) was slammed by filmmakers Jean-Luc Godard and Michael Haneke, any approach to this subject can and should be subjected to serious critique.
The Zone of Interest has drawn some criticism for its pointed evasion of the film’s primary source of tension. By refusing to explicitly show the camp and, by proxy, Höss’s active participation in the genocide, some have argued that Glazer minimizes his evil.
In this way, the film could reinforce the misconception that Nazi higher-ups were simply men following orders, unaware of the gravity of their actions. This is a notion long disproven by historical records demonstrating that figures like Höss were active participants and even enthusiastic innovators of the Holocaust.
What this line of criticism seems to miss is the harshness of Glazer’s portrayal, despite his sole focus on the Höss family’s domestic lives. Höss is repeatedly shown as a leader and innovator in the planning of mass executions, never bothered or deterred by the immense cruelty he inflicts.
Hedwig and the children, from this perspective, are depicted as blissfully ignorant. They are happy to ignore the odd gunshot in the distance, or human remains washed up in the nearby lake. But they are clearly aware of what’s going on.
This is eventually made obvious through dialogue, but it is fully evident from the moment Hedwig is introduced. With a baby in her arms, Hedwig leisurely tours her flower garden while the sounds of screams, gunshots, barking dogs and crashing gates hang in the background.
That Glazer rarely calls attention to the family’s awareness as they go about their lives is not a claim of their naivety — it is a condemnation of their indifference.
With one eye on the controversial history of Holocaust dramas, Glazer seems to propose that cinema is ultimately incapable of literally depicting such atrocities. Instead, The Zone of Interest functions as a disturbing mirror image.
Glazer told the Guardian the film is about “our similarity to the perpetrators, not our similarity to the victims.” Rather than crafting a tribute to the victims of this tragedy, he forces the viewer to sit with the immense discomfort of the ordinary and eerily relatable home life of the Höss family.
The film’s deeply subversive approach to this loaded subject will no doubt leave some viewers feeling alienated and unsatisfied. But it is no coincidence that this film comes at a time when the global news cycle is dominated by stories of bloody conflict. Glazer’s vision of a family for whom violence and atrocity has become a simple and ignorable fact of life is a deeply potent and necessary one.
Feature image from IMDb.
