NYJFF ’10: Within the Whirlwind

In 1934, Sergey Kirov, one of the few Soviet leaders willing to challenge Stalin’s hard line policies, was very conveniently assassinated. It became a handy pretext for Stalin to purge anyone not sufficiently loyal to dictatorial rule. While addressing a group of Kazan Party members, Evgenia Ginzburg assures them the conspirators will soon be brought to justice. As a faithful Communist, she is soon shocked to find herself among the accused in Marleen Gorris’s Within the Whirlwind (trailer here), the closing night selection of the 2010 New York Jewish Film Festival, based on Ginzburg’s memoirs.

As a professor of Marxist-Leninist theory, a card-carrying Party member, and the wife of a local Party official, Ginzburg never imagined she could fall under suspicion. Of course, given Stalin’s widely reported anti-Semitism, her Jewish heritage probably did not help. Still, there seemed to be a Kafkaesque arbitrariness to Stalin’s purges, leading one of her friends to ruefully remark to her: “if it can happen to you, it can happen to anyone.”

Considering herself lucky to be sentenced to a Siberian gulag rather than summarily executed, Ginzburg struggles to endure the harshest of conditions. She was fortunate in one respect, catching the eye of Dr. Anton Walker, an ethnic German prisoner serving as the camp doctor. While working together in the infirmary, Ginzburg and Walker inevitably fall in love. Of course, love is forbidden by the Communists, who quickly moved to separate the two prisoners, transferring the doctor to another camp. As a result, Whirlwind ends on a truly Zhivagan note, as Ginzburg wonders if she and Walker will ever find each other again if and when they are finally released.

Gorris (best known for helming the Foreign Language Oscar winning Antonia’s Line) mostly focuses her lens on the Soviet degradation of humanity rather than the grand historical crises unfolding at the time (with WWII only obliquely intruding on the events on-screen). While she rarely deviates from a conventionally straight forward approach to historical drama, she vividly captures a sense of the horror of the gulag in one swirlingly operatic scene of camp guard running amok.

Two-time Oscar nominee Emily Watson effectively carries the lead, convincingly conveying Ginzburg’s transformation from arrogant apparatchik to emaciated prisoner. However, the greatest revelation is German actor Ulrich Tukur in a rare English language role as Dr. Walter. Often seen in German imports as the heavy, including his truly chilling supporting performance in The Lives of Others, Tukur expresses Walker’s humanism and dignity, without ever overplaying the nobility card.

Whirlwind is a very good film with a great cast. To its credit, it faithfully represents the tenor of Stalin’s purges, in which nobody was safe. Such is the nature of totalitarian regimes that they always turn on their pure-of-heart true believers. An excellent selection to conclude a particularly strong slate of films, Whirlwind concludes this year’s NYJFF with screenings at the Walter Reade Theater this Wednesday (1/27) and Thursday (1/28).

NYJFF ’10: Ultimatum

How good a friend is Israel to America? Despite having one of the best military forces in the world, they honored America’s request that they not return fire when Saddam Hussein started bombarding their country with scuds during the first Gulf War. While America was concerned about the sensibilities of the Arab state members of the coalition, Israelis had the Sword of Damocles dangling over their heads. Living with that fear and stress from constant missile attacks severely strains the relationship of one French expat couple in Alain Tasma’s Ultimatum (trailer here), which screens at this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival, presented by the Jewish Museum and the Lincoln Center Film Society.

Luisa is trying to enjoy her New Year’s party, but her boyfriend Nathanael is being a moody pill. However, everyone is really a bit on edge, because the January 15th deadline for Hussein to withdraw from Kuwait is drawing close and of course nobody expects him to comply. Stores cannot keep duct tape and survival kits in-stock, but Israelis still try to go on with the regular routines. For Gil and Tamar that means preparing for the imminent arrival of their first child, whereas for Luisa and Nathanael, it involves a predictable cycle of fighting and making up.

Eventually, the fifteenth comes and goes without incident, but just as an uneasy calm settles, all the fireworks start. Of course, the birth of Tamar’s baby coincides with the start of the bombing two days after the deadline. Meanwhile, the intense emotions of the first round of scuds might draw Luisa and Nathanael closer together, but then again probably not.

The biggest problem with Ultimatum is that it makes it nearly impossible to root for Luisa and Nathanael as couple—quite the contrary, in fact. Jasmine Trinca projects genuine warmth and likability on-screen as Luisa. However, Gaspard Ulliel’s petulant Nathanael just drags down every scene he is in. Still, there is some nice supporting work in Ultimatum, particularly that of Miryam Zohar as Mrs. Finger-Mayer, the tragic elderly neighbor whose presence reflects the contrast between Luisa and Nathanael through their very different responses to her.

Despite the characters’ frequently annoying behavior, Tasma keeps the picture moving along relatively well. He is most successful at capturing the tenor of that time in recent Israeli history marked by watchful pre-war waiting. Ultimately, it also offers a glimpse into the indomitable Israeli spirit that carries on in the face of adversity (though like much of contemporary Israeli cinema exported into America, it takes several potshots at the government’s treatment of Arab Israeli communities).

Ultimatum has its moments, conveying a good sense of what it was like in Israel during the first Gulf War. While Trinca’s lead performance is quite impressive, it often undercut by a problematic central relationship that taxes viewer patience. Still, over all it is an interesting if uneven film that provides insight into the recent Israeli experience. It screens during the NYJFF at the Walter Reade Theater this coming Thursday (1/28).

NYJFF ’10: Mary and Max

Pre-Giuliani New York was a tough place to make friends, particularly for a middle-aged science fiction fan with Asperger’s Syndrome. Growing up in the Australian suburbs is not that easy either for an overweight young girl with a tragically conspicuous birth mark. While it might sound like a hackneyed cliché, the two sensitive oddball characters really do learn the value of friendship through their decades long correspondence in Adam Elliot’s bittersweet “clayography” (essentially his non-trademarked term for Claymation) feature film, Mary and Max (trailer here), the opening night film at last year’s Sundance, which now screens as a part of the 2010 New York Jewish Film Festival.

There are several reasons why young Mary Daisy Dinkle is so painfully shy at school. She is a bit on the chubby side, with “eyes the color of muddy puddles and a birthmark the color of poo.” She also has a mother more interested in the sherry bottle than providing a nurturing environment. To find out where babies come from, the confused girl sends a letter to a name randomly selected from the New York City phonebook: Max Jerry Horowitz.

When Horowitz receives her first letter, he has the first of many nervous breakdowns to come. Indeed, he has the distinction of being even more socially awkward than Dinkle. In addition to his Asperger’s, he is also a card-carrying member of the New York Science Fiction Club and a not-so former Communist, neither of which are really conducive to healthy social interaction. However, thanks to their mutual interests in chocolate and the Smurf-like Noblit cartoon characters, Horowitz is able to forge his first genuinely meaningful friendship.

Using the Penguin Café Orchestra’s “Perpetuum Mobile” as an effective recurring musical motif, Elliot brilliantly sets the stage, introducing viewers to Dinkle’s home town and her idiosyncratic family history. Eventually, the scene changes to Horowitz’s grungy 1970’s New York, quite evocatively captured in Elliot’s clay. As they exchange letters over the course of years, Dinkle becomes more self-assertive and Horowitz becomes more self-aware. However, Horowitz’s Asperger’s diagnosis threatens to rupture their friendship. Dinkle, now a confident psychologist in training, wants to cure his condition, whereas Horowitz embraces his identity as an “aspy.”

There is plenty of humor in M&M, both of the blackly comic and broadly slapstick varieties, but it is quite a serious, heartfelt film. Elliot’s figures are remarkably expressive and the voice talent of Toni Collette and Phillip Seymour Hoffman convincingly express their very human emotions. Australian actor Barry Humphries also provides warmly authoritative narration that holds the film together nicely.

M&M is the second clay-animated full length feature to come out of Australia, following Tatia Rosenberg’s memorably wistful $9.99. Arguably, M&M is even better realized as a screen drama in its own right. While it might sound like an oft-told tale, Elliot bestows fresh eccentricities and a genuinely sweet spirit on this ode to friendship. One of twenty qualifying films still officially eligible for the Best Animated Feature Film Award at this year’s Oscars, it ranks with A Town Called Panic as one of the best animated films of the year. It screens during this year’s NYJFF on Saturday (1/23) and Sunday (1/24) at the Walter Reade Theater and is also the opening night selection of the upcoming Reelabilities Film Festival at the JCC in Manhattan.

NYJFF ’10: Berlin ’36

If you do not already know the secret of German high jumper Marie Ketteler, the picture below will probably give it away (“she” is the one on the left). Conversely, her teammate Gretel Bergmann had no secrets. Everyone on the German track team was keenly aware she was Jewish, and never let her forget it. Their strange, unlikely friendship is dramatized in Kaspar Heidelbach’s Berlin ’36 (trailer here), which screens at this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival, presented by the Jewish Museum and the Lincoln Center Film Society.

Though not yet at war with the Third Reich, many concerned Americans advocated boycotting the Berlin games if Germany’s Jewish athletes were not allowed to participate. As the reigning high jump champion, Bergmann’s absence would be especially conspicuous. Reluctantly, she returned to the Fatherland, joining the German team for the sake of her family’s safety. Of course, training is made deliberately uncomfortable for Bergmann. She is constantly harassed by anti-Semitic teammates and is stuck bunking with the weird Ketteler chick.

Of course, the National Socialists never intended to let Bergmann compete, even though she would have been the prohibitive gold medal favorite. Instead, in an act that vividly illustrated the regime’s sick pettiness, a man was recruited to compete as a woman, with the hopes that she would beat out Bergmann for a spot on the time. Yet, even when Bergmann discovered her roommate’s secret, they remained friends. Berlin’s Marie Ketteler is based on the very real Dora Ratjen, who reportedly had genuine medical issues causing her gender confusion. In Berlin, Ketteler was raised as a girl by an abusive mother, even though he wished to live as a man.

Though the Berlin Games had many dramatic stories, Heidelbach’s film focuses solely on the high jumpers. Jesse Owens is maybe seen in passing, but never factors as a character. Likewise, controversial filmmaker and National Socialist propagandist Leni Riefenstahl, who famously documented the games in Olympia, never appears. Strangely though, the film is rather generous in its depiction of U.S. Olympic Committee president Avery Brundage, who was always considered a staunch opponent of any boycott (and not particularly sensitive to the plight of Jewish athletes).

Berlin chronicles a fascinating episode in history, but it is beset by one rather obvious problem. Granted, the historic Ratjen might not look very feminine at all in the photos available on the web, but as Ketteler, Sebastian Urzendowsky simply never looks like a woman or even somewhat androgynous. Ordinarily, that might be a good thing, but it the context of the film, it is a major distraction. He is not necessarily bad in the role, but he just does not look convincing in the part.

To be fair, casting Ketteler is a tricky proposition. Fortunately, Berlin is driven by a winning lead performance from Karoline Herfurth that largely compensates for her struggling costar. She looks like a track star and expresses appropriate anger and fear, without coming across as weak or melodramatic. Berlin also benefits from an effective supporting turn from Axel Prahl as Hans Waldmann, the team’s first coach, who is naturally fired for being too fair-minded and sportsman-like, as well as for having a decidedly un-German mess of an office.

Though the concluding coda featuring interview footage with the real life Bergmann (now Margaret Bergmann-Lambert) might give Berlin a History Channel vibe, most audiences will probably appreciate the chance to hear from her. (Fortunately, she and her family were able to leave Germany before it was too late.) Indeed, hers is an important story people should hear. Though it has its weaknesses, on balance Berlin is a good film that tells its heroine’s story with proper respect and sensitivity. It screens at the Walter Reade Theater Thursday (1/21) and Sunday (1/24), with Bergmann-Lambert attending on the afternoon of the 21st.

NYJFF ’10: Happy End

Simon’s family is haunted. Yes, there really is a ghost, though they never see the spirit of his late wife Ada watching over them. It is more their painful memories of the Holocaust which cast dark shadows over the extended Dutch family that has now gathered at what may well be Simon’s deathbed. Director Frans Weisz has revealed their family secrets in a trilogy of films that concludes with Happy End (trailer here), which screens at this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival, presented by the Jewish Museum and the Lincoln Center Film Society.

As End opens, the ghostly Ada provides an overview of the complex family relationships for the benefit of new viewers. Frankly, it brings to mind the deliberately convoluted introductions to the old sitcom Soap. However, the precipitating crisis is clear enough. Simon’s condition is quickly deteriorating and his friends and family are having difficulty coping. While quality of life questions are always difficult to grapple with under such circumstances, it is particularly hard for Simon’s loved ones, because of his experiences during the Holocaust. “One hour above ground is worth an eternity six feet under,” he always told them.

As a man who treasures life, Simon led a full one. He is the father of the fifty-ish Lea and the eighteen year-old Isaac, but by different women. Lea was married to former hospital administrator Nico, who later remarried his first wife Dory. Dory is Isaac’s mother, but she has little time for him, so the teen has essentially been raised by the elderly Simon and his half sister Lea. Confused? Actually, it is even more complicated when Nico’s side of the family is taken into account, but End’s central themes are clearly delineated. As the head of the family, Simon has been the glue holding everyone together, but he is in his twilight years. Conversely, Isaac is awkwardly finding his way in the world as a young man. Yet, even he is deeply affected by the family’s survivor legacy.

A film about a dysfunctional family paying their last respects to their Holocaust survivor patriarch might sound utterly depressing, but End is surprisingly life-affirming. As we encounter Simon in flashbacks, the message that life is to be celebrated comes through clearly and persuasively. Though the ending might seem more than a bit contrived, it is still satisfying in an unabashedly sentimental way.

Weisz’s approach is admirably restrained and sensitive, but the pace never falters. Indeed, the ensemble cast is quite remarkable, keeping the audience fully invested at all times, but never overplaying material that could easily lend itself to melodrama. They truly look and sound like people with decades of shared history (as is indeed the case, since most appeared in the previous installments, Qui vive released in 2001 and Polonaise from 1989). Particularly effective are the scenes between Simon and his unlikely son Isaac, nicely turned by Peter Oosthoek and Jip Loots, respectively.

End presents a consistently interesting cinematic family well worth meeting, despite their many faults. Though it initially suggests a bit of a TV movie vibe, End is a refreshingly mature and nuanced drama, brought to life by a truly fine ensemble cast. It screens during the 2010 NYJFF at the Lincoln Center’s Walter Reade Theater this coming Sunday (1/17) and Tuesday (1/19).

NYJFF ’10: Protektor

A grave crisis can certainly also represent an opportunity, but capitalizing on it usually requires a certain moral flexibility. For one jealous journalist, the German occupation of Czechoslovakia offers such a chance to advance professionally while tightly controlling his beautiful Jewish wife in Marek Najbrt’s ironically titled Protektor (trailer here), the Czech Republic’s official Oscar submission for consideration as Best Foreign Language Film, which screens during this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival.

Emil Vrbata is probably right to be concerned about his vivacious wife Hana. Having just completed her first film, her career is poised to explode. She also seems quite chummy with Fantl, her much older, but still charming, romantic co-star. However, her promising future is cut short by the Third Reich’s invasion.

The Vrbatas have a mixed marriage. She is Jewish, though not particularly observant, whereas her husband is sufficiently Aryan to become the primary mouthpiece for the Nazi Czechoslovakian propaganda machine. Though his nearly famous wife’s Jewish heritage is known to many, he is able to protect her, provided she stays confined to their apartment.

Suddenly, he is the one pursuing extracurricular affairs, secure in the belief that his wife is safely locked away in their flat. Indeed, the tables have turned and keep turning. Having made a deal with the devil, he understands the evil nature of his new masters only too well. As a result, when through ill-fated happenstance he is caught up in the plot to assassinate the brutal SS strongman Reinhard Heydrich, he never considers simply telling the truth. Again, to rely on shopworn aphorisms, those with guilty consciences always feel they have something to hide.

Protektor is not another heroic rescuer film. True, Vrbata shelters his wife from almost certain death, but his motives are hardly selfless. Likewise, Hana Vrbata cannot be simply dismissed as the standard issue noble victim, particularly in light of the solace she finds in the emotional intimacy and the morphine provided by a lonely projectionist. Indeed, there are a lot of competing motivations at play in Protektor, but altruism is rarely a factor.

Jana Plodková shows real star power as Hana Vrbata, literally shining in the gorgeously shot film-within-the-film scenes. It is a nuanced performance, maintaining the audience’s sympathies and credibility despite her character’s manifest flaws. Unfortunately, Marek Daniel seemed to take his direction from Hannah Arendt ‘s concept of the “banality of evil,” coming across rather stiff and boring as the compromised Emil Vrbata. However, the strongest impression might well be made by Jiří Ornest as the seemingly rakish Fantl, who convincingly morphs into one of the films few tragically decent figures.

Alternating between bold colors and some elegantly stylized black-and-white sequences, Miloslav Holman’s cinematography is quite distinctive. It is a well crafted, great looking production, but its decidedly unsentimental perspective on occupied Czechoslovakia may leave some viewers cold. A somewhat cynical film that delivers no heroics, Protektor is an intriguing selection for this year’s NYJFF. It is worth checking out when it screens at the Walter Reade Theater this coming Sunday (1/17), Monday (1/18), and Tuesday (1/19).

NYJFF ’10: The Axe of Wandsbek

Despite their rigid internal censorship, the East German state-owned DEFA movie studio occasionally slipped up and accidentally produced a film that ran afoul of their Soviet masters. Given the skepticism openly expressed for central state planning in Frank Beyer’s Trace of Stones, it is easy to understand why it was banned by the Communist government. The ideological sins committed by Falk Harnack’s The Axe of Wandsbek were less obvious. Dutifully casting the underground resistance to National Socialism as ardent Communists in a convenient act of revisionist history, Harnack seemed to touch all the right propaganda bases. However, when the authorities deemed the psychologically realistic anti-hero-protagonist too sympathetic, Axe was quickly yanked from theaters after its 1951 opening. Fortunately, the film survived to enjoy the new vogue for DEFA’s films, with a newly restored print screening this Sunday as part of the New York Jewish Film Festival.

It is 1934 in the Wandsbek district of Hamburg. In five year’s time, Germany and the Soviet Union will sign the Molotov-Ribbentrop non-aggression pact, dividing Poland between the two regimes. However, as Axe opens, there are four Communist prisoners in Hamburg the Fuhrer wants executed, but there is no executioner available to get the job done. As long as the “Reeperbahn Four” still draw breath, the Fuhrer refuses to grace the city with his presence, which is most distressing to the shipping magnate and local SS enforcer, Peter Footh. Times are also tough for Albert Teetjen, a local butcher losing business because he cannot afford modern extravagances, like refrigeration. However, when the desperate Teetjen seeks the help of his old army comrade Footh, he gets an offer he never expected. It involves his grandfather’s axe, made of the finest Sheffield steel.

Teetjen does indeed stand-in for the absent executioner, earning 2,000 marks for his efforts. Initially, everything seems to work out swimmingly. Customers flock to buy Teetjen’s refrigerated meat while celebrating Hitler’s triumphant tour of the city. However, when word leaks out about Teetjen’s grim freelance work, he is shunned by the community and hounded by the Communist underground.

Axe is a strange film. Though loosely based on an actual incident, the film’s central premise, that the Third Reich would have difficulty executing four prisoners, seems bizarre. It is also a somewhat odd selection for the New York Jewish Film Festival, because it never addresses the Holocaust. Aside from an anti-Semitic remark here and there, it suggests the Nazis were chiefly concerned with persecuting the Communists (with whom they would ally themselves during the early years of the war.)

DEFA was most certainly in the propaganda business, so it is important to keep that in mind while screening Axe. Still, it is worth parsing the ideology for Harnack’s stylish film noir elements, particularly the visual flourishes of his scene transitions. Erwin Geschonneck, a former concentration camp prisoner, does in fact humanize Teetjen, conveying his desperation and rather guileless nature. He emerges as a protagonist much in the tradition of Socialist Realism, who is forced by economic circumstances to commit a heinous crime and is then crushed by the same heartless world for his sins. Indeed, the film could be deconstructed into a critique of the fickleness of “the masses,” those that first cheered for Hitler and then turned against his loyal executioner.

In and of itself, Axe is a terrible history lesson, but as a controversial product of the DEFA studio, it is film of great historical importance. It is also a surprisingly entertaining dark thriller for those able appreciate it in the proper context. It screens Sunday afternoon (1/17) at the Walter Reade Theater, where the 2010 NYJFF continues through January 28th.

NYJFF ’10: The Jazz Baroness

Most jazz fans have heard of her, rather they realize it or not. The Baroness Pannonica Rothschild de Koenigswarter was immortalized in musical tributes composed by the likes of Thelonious Monk, Horace Silver, Tommy Flanagan, Kenny Drew, and Jon Hendricks. Yet for “Nica” de Koenigswarter, Monk was unquestionably the first among equals. Her deep friendship with the pianist-composer and his family is the major focus of The Jazz Baroness, Hannah Rothschild’s documentary profile of her Great Aunt Nica, which screens as part of this year’s New York Jewish Film Festival, following its 2009 broadcast run on HBO2.

Koenigswarter had already lived an eventful life before she ever heard bebop. She had served as an ambulance driver and communications specialist with the free French during WWII, first in Africa and later in Germany. Yet jazz would be her true calling. Ironically, it was Teddy Wilson, best known as Billie Holiday’s long-time accompanist and a member of the integrated Benny Goodman Quartet, who introduced her to Monk’s music. Though she was powerfully moved by “’Round Midnight,” it would be two years until she actually met Monk, launching a fast but lasting friendship after a concert in Paris.

Appropriately, Rothschild’s first introduction to her late great aunt was in a downtown jazz club, with her stately Bentley parked outside. Indeed, the Baroness always embraced the scene despite her privileged background. She became a one-woman forerunner to the Jazz Foundation of America, often paying medical bills and getting horns out of hock for musicians in need. It also brought her into unfortunately close proximity to some of the seedier aspects of nightlife, particularly illicit drugs. She was mercilessly vilified by Walter Winchell after Charlie Parker, exhausted by years of hard living, died in her residence in the Stanhope Hotel and even faced potential incarceration on another occasion.

It is difficult for filmmaker Rothschild to fully classify the nature of the relationship between Monk and the Baroness. The friends and musicians she interviews, including Monk’s son drummer T.S. Monk, all adamantly insist it was a strictly platonic friendship. Indeed, by all accounts, the Baroness and Monk’s wife Nellie were almost equally close. Yet Baroness clearly suggests there was some special connection between the musician and the jazz patroness that still defies easy description, but became a part of the mystique of them both.

Though Hannah Rothschild might not share her great aunt’s passion for jazz, she gleaned considerable insights from a number of jazz legends, including Sonny Rollins and Roy Haynes, who played with Monk at one time, as well as artists like Chico Hamilton, Archie Shepp, and Quincy Jones, who followed the trail he blazed. Rothschild also had the benefit of some measure of cooperation (if not enthusiasm) from her illustrious family. (After all, they are Rothschilds, the family that financed the British war effort against Napoleon.) Of course, it is all accompanied by generous samples of Monk’s haunting music, as well as his distinctive renditions of a few jazz standards.

Admirably, Baroness treats jazz and the musicians who play it with due and proper respect. With Academy Award winning actress Helen Mirren giving voice to the Baroness’s letters and journals, it is all assembled in a very classy, British package. It is a great jazz documentary that will make a nice change of pace from the much of the programming at the 2010 NYJFF. It screens Saturday (1/16), Sunday (1/17), and Monday (1/18) at the Walter Reade Theater.

NYJFF ’10: Saviors in the Night

One of the most pernicious lies of the Nazi propaganda machine blamed the alleged lack of patriotism among Jews for Germany’s defeat in WWI. In reality, scores of Jewish Germans served the Kaiser with honor and distinction, including Menne Spiegel, who was awarded the Iron Cross for his courage under fire. The simple, God-fearing farmers of Westphalia knew better. Though many were indeed members in good-standing of the National Socialist party, they sheltered Spiegel, his wife Marga, and daughter Karin without hesitation. Those tense two years in Westphalia are chronicled in Ludi Boeken’s Saviors in the Night (trailer here), which opens the 2010 New York Jewish Film Festival this Wednesday.

Blond and beautiful, Marga Spiegel looks Aryan, which allows her and Karin to pass themselves off as simple evacuees, finding refuge at the farm of Spiegel’s old Army comrade Heinrich Aschoff after a recent round of Allied bombing. Unfortunately though, not only is Menne Spiegel recognizable to many Westphalians from his horse trading business, he also almost looks like a Nazi caricature, forcing his protector, the taciturn Pentrop, to keep him hidden away in the loft of his workshop, safely out of sight.

Based on Marga Spiegel’s memoir, Savior largely follows a pattern somewhat familiar from other rescuer films, but it still has some fresh perspectives to offer. One might assume Marga and Karin would find comfort with their supposed fellow evacuees, but they can never let their guard down around the Aschoff’s other virulently anti-Semitic guests. Marga also has to contend with a certain degree of class envy from Aschoff’s wife Maria. Yet the film makes it quite clear the Aschoffs’ mercy and courage were deeply rooted in their Catholicism. “We are closer to the Bishop of Münster than to Hitler,” he admonishes his daughter Anni, an ardent Hitler Youth.

Yes, young Anni has an inevitable change of heart, as she comes to understand the nature of the National Socialist regime. Of course, there are also many sudden inspections and near exposures, but they are well executed by Boeken. He keeps the atmosphere tense, but remains faithful to the understated nature of Westphalia’s pious farmers. Much like Schindler’s List, the actors are joined by the actual Marga Spiegel and Anni Aschoff for the final scene, but in Savior the mood is more celebratory rather than elegiac, again giving established conventions a fractionally different twist.

Savior’s cast is uniformly strong, particularly the vaguely Joseph Cotton looking Martin Horn, who portrays Aschoff with fitting unpretentious directness. Likewise, Veronica Ferres certainly captures Marga Spiegel’s fear and desperation, but with considerable depth and quiet intensity, preventing her from becoming a mere stock figure of noble suffering and endurance. Teenaged Lia Hoensbroech also handles Anni Aschoff’s transformation convincingly, nicely playing off Ferres in their critical scenes together.

While Savior essentially takes the audience where it expects to go, it does so effectively. Its strong leads engage the audience emotionally, while Boeken’s sure hand keeps the on-screen action tightly focused. More than just an exercise in good intentions, Savior is a strong film, well-chosen to kick-off this year’s NYJFF. It screens Wednesday (1/13) at the Walter Reade, with Marga Spiegel scheduled to attend.

NYJFF ‘10: Gruber’s Journey

In recent years, American, Israeli, and Western European filmmakers have not been reluctant to address the Holocaust on film. However, that has not been the case in Romania, where the notorious Iaşi Pogrom remains a particularly delicate subject to broach. Director Radu Gabrea has been the rare exception, producing both documentaries and dramatic features about the Jewish experience in Romania. Produced with a willful disregard for the Romanian box office, Gabrea presents the tragic events of Iaşi from the perspective of a non-Romanian outsider in his latest film, Gruber’s Journey (trailer here), which screens Wednesday and Thursday at the New York Jewish Film Festival.

A complicated historical figure, the Italian writer Curzio Malaparte was indeed a member of the Italian Fascist Party, though not always in good standing due to his gadfly tendencies. As fate would dictate, he was in Iaşi, or Jassy as it also known, immediately following the massive round-up of the city’s Jewish population and would incorporate a very critical account of the incident into his novel Kaputt. In Journey, Gabrea suggests a fictional story to explain Malaparte’s ultimate disillusionment with Italy’s allies and Fascism in general.

Assigned to cover the Russian front for the Italian news service, Malaparte is traveling east with Col. Freitag of the Wehrmacht and the deputy commander of the local Romanian garrison. It is all quite chummy and pleasant except for the severe allergy attack plaguing the writer. He has a referral from a doctor in Bucharest for a world-class allergist, Dr. Josef Gruber, but when Malaparte reaches Iaşi, Dr. Gruber is mysteriously nowhere to be found.

After enduring a local hack doctor’s battery of sedatives to no avail, Malaparte sets out to find Gruber. What follows is a Kafkaesque story of bureaucratic runaround, as the sinus-challenged Fascist attempts to locate Gruber’s transport. It is not simply a case of Romanians lacking German efficiency. To produce Gruber would imply a level of knowledge and culpability that none of the local Romanians want to assume, despite earning laurels mere days earlier for their actions in the pogrom.

Journey is a deliberately bloodless and cerebral film. Gabrea shows the audience nothing directly. Instead, we watch Malaparte put together the pieces. Why is the local pharmacy a mad house? Because their two closest competitors suddenly shuttered their doors at the same time Gruber disappeared. Inescapably, a pattern emerges. Throughout the film, Gabrea slowly builds towards Malaparte’s final moment of epiphany. It is a subtle payoff, but nicely turned by Florin Piersic, Jr. Perhaps the greatest standout in the cast though is German actor Udo Schenk, disturbingly convincing as the charming but ruthless Freitag.

Undoubtedly, some will be troubled by Journey’s antiseptic approach, relying on the audience to supply its own visions of the horrors that have happened in Iaşi. Indeed, its attempts at absurdist humor often seem more uncomfortable than amusing. Understanding the trajectory Malaparte’s life will follow though, would probably help foster an appreciation of the coldly intellectual film portrayal. It is a film pitched at the head rather than the heart, which is quite ambitious given the dramatic nature of its subject. It screens at the Walter Reade Theater Wednesday (1/13) and Thursday (1/14) during the New York Jewish Film Festival.