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Rating: It takes just a few minutes to grasp the stature of this film. Its greatness lies primarily in the formal choices of director Nemes. Narrating the Holocaust is certainly not a new endeavor, but doing so in this manner holds a significantly different meaning. There are two decisive elements: on the one hand, the vision of horror; on the other, the identification with the protagonist.
Nemes manages to depict the horrific abyss of Auschwitz without descending into documentary style or getting lost in macabre exhibitionism. The bodies, the blood, the piles of dead are present in the film, but they are observed by the camera with a distracted eye, not surprised to see these horrors because they are now part of its daily life. The viewer sees something, but without that something becoming the main object of attention (or rather, of Saul's attention, see below). The horror is filtered without being amplified.
To make this entirely peculiar viewpoint possible, the director necessarily needs to identify with his protagonist. Only in this way is it possible to justify a now disenchanted gaze upon such atrocities. This is why the camera follows Saul closely, staying behind him like a guardian angel. Thus, by delving deeply into the psychology of the protagonist and almost into his corporeality, Nemes can view Saul's surroundings with a detached eye. Consequently, this gaze works perfectly in the aesthetic and moral rendering of the film, which aims to show horror without prudery but also without emphasis. Saul's detachment is sensed, yet one is almost poisoned by the continuous massacre's blurred and elusive images.
Likewise, adhering to the protagonist's gaze also serves as an additional signifier of his psychology. The shots are always directed downward, towards corners, as if they dared not open up to the full view of the surrounding world. Saul moves like a rat in the camp, and so does the camera, perfectly filtering all his feelings and perceptions.
The film also stands out for the delicacy with which it introduces themes and concepts. The alienation in the face of the routine horror and the subsequent moral awakening of the protagonist are expressed almost implicitly: we often see Saul from behind, and his face is necessarily inexpressive, but the strength of his moral resurgence is evidenced by his relentless pilgrimage in search of a rabbi to bury the deceased child. It comes to postulate a deeply nihilistic yet simultaneously positive message: in the loss of meaning, in the disappearance of every value, dignity, meaning, identity, even just attempting to give importance to human burial is a revolutionary act. It doesn't matter if it is doomed to failure; in the absolute void of Auschwitz, Saul's sentiment is a starting point, a very timid rebirth of humanity amidst the Nazi moral desert.
Undoubtedly, it's a difficult film to digest: the director's gaze following Saul forces itself into often shaky movements, long sequence shots in dark environments filtered by cinematography that accentuates the grays. But it's a necessary effort to understand and feel the experiential magnitude of the film. And when it comes to scenarios like this, the cinematic experience itself can only be harsh and exhausting.
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