Son of Saul is one
of those haunting films that stays with you long after the credits begin to
roll. As you think more about it and your
107 minutes spent with Saul Auslander more questions and revelations about his
story creep into your mind. Who was this
man? What was his history?
Set in Auschwitz concentration camp during WWII, Son of Saul follows 2 days in the life
of Hungarian Sonderkommando, Saul Auslander (Géza Röhrig). Responsible
for collecting the dead after slaughtered in the gas chambers, cleaning said
chambers, and bringing the bodies for cremating Saul goes through his duties
expressionless. Shot mostly in close up,
the audience is there with Saul. Much of
the background is blurred out or obstructed from our view, we focus on
Saul. This changes when he comes across
the body of a young boy who he takes as his son and seeks to have buried
properly. His mission and his will to
live suddenly change as now he has a purpose.
He becomes totally obsessed with finding a Rabbi to do a proper preparation
for and subsequent burial according to Jewish law. This is all against the backdrop of not just
the horrors of Auschwitz, but also as he and the other Sonderkommandos prepare
a revolt against their captors.
Throughout the less than 48 hours spent with Saul not a lot is learned
about him. We get bits and pieces throughout
the narrative, but even those are questionable.
Is the child really his son? If not,
what is his motivation for obsessing over this child’s burial? Did he have children at all? Was he married? We do meet one woman, who has a different last
name as him, that he clearly has some past with, but what is that past? Was he religious or is his preoccupation with
finding a Rabbi for this child his way of honoring the shred of his humanity
that is left.
The cinematography is also fascinating. The first three shots of the film are very
long takes, focusing in on Saul as he performs his duties. They are from behind and from the side, not
focusing in on his face. These takes set
the scene, they draw the viewer in. Subsequently
the camera mostly focuses in on Saul’s face.
In contrast to Dreyer’s The Passion of Joan of Arc (1928), the close ups
here don’t serve to highlight specific expressions, rather they highlight lack
of expression. Paired with quick takes
and cuts it creates a chaotic sense of claustrophobia that is uncomfortable for
the audience. We cannot look away. We cannot escape. We are disoriented and unsure of our
surroundings. We are Saul, stuck in the
mire of the horrors of the camp.
In the final scene (don’t worry, I won’t give away the ending
but you might want to skip this if you don’t want any hints to the ending) Saul
offers, for the first time, a new expression, followed by one of, if not the,
widest shots in the entire film. Its
meaning is also ambiguous, although I took it to mean peace, the scenic shot
and new expression on Saul’s face offer a different aesthetic from the rest of
the film and even though the ending was not what we were hoping for there is
value in the conclusion.
On a separate note, this film represents something that is
valuable to what I call the “Jews on screen” narrative. Since WWII, Holocaust films have been
abundant. Both about the Jews as they
suffer at the hands of the Nazis, or in the PTSD era of how they had to cope
with the horrors they lived through while many of their families did not (The Pawnbroker, for instance). Traditionally, the narrative has been “Jews
as victims” and only recently has it morphed into “Jews as heroes.” Recently, with films such as Defiance, Inglorious Basterds, The Debt, No
Place on Earth and others, the Jew as hero narrative begins to emerge. Jews are not people who are mere victims,
unable or unwilling to take charge of their own destinies. They won’t lie down and take what is being
given to them. They will fight back,
physically or emotionally.
What I find to be really fascinating about this shift is
that it comes at the same time that Anti-Semitism is on the rise around the
world, but now it’s disguised as anti-Israel sentiment. Jews are being celebrated on screen for
defending themselves, but when they do it in “real life,” they are disparaged. While Palestinians murder Jews in the streets
of Israel and in their homes, the world is calling for boycotts of Jewish goods
from Judea and Samaria, not to mention the insistence that Jews leave their
homes in that area. When the IDF or the
Israeli police retaliate and neutralize (kill) the murdering terrorists or when
they return the rockets that are fired from Gaza, the world cries out that
Israel is not showing restraint and they should react with “proportionality.” Jews
can be masters of their own fates on screen but when it happens in reality
there is a disconnect and people don’t know how reconcile that. How can those who celebrate strength and
honor in the face of imminent destruction decry the same strength and honor in
another scenario?
Son of Saul brings
up all of those questions through focusing in on a short time spent with one
man in a horrific situation. Maybe through
these on screen Jewish heroes during their darkest time, the world can translate
that to modern day and honor the actions of Jews today as they live and defend
their rightful homeland, the one place in the world where they can be safe from
the horrors that the world wishes to impose on them.
