Jonathan Glazer’s profoundly unsettling and meticulously restrained work, “The Zone of Interest,” stands as one of the most damning portrayals of the human psyche ever captured on film. By extension, it assumes a place of paramount importance in the cinematic canon. This film offers a perspective on the Holocaust that is genuinely distinctive, presenting the historical horrors in a more cerebral light, probing the depths of human consciousness, and unearthing the intrinsic darkness within it. In this exploration, Glazer dares to cast a shadow over our collective legacy, suggesting that our impact on the world is far from unequivocally positive. For every commendable act, he implies, there exists an infinite reservoir of horrifying deeds ready to take its place.
From the very first moments, before a single frame of “The Zone of Interest” graces the screen, the omnipresence of malevolence makes its presence felt. The stark title card gradually dissolves into an unnerving, droning void, enveloping the audience in an eerie darkness. This disquieting introduction serves as a haunting portal, transporting viewers into an unsettling and often overlooked perspective. Remarkably, before the film even officially commences, with nothing more than a chilling auditory landscape and an inky black canvas, Glazer manages to evoke emotions that are challenging to replicate even in the most visually arresting of sequences. Within the opening minutes, “The Zone of Interest” compels us to confront and acclimatize to Glazer’s icy, idiosyncratic vision.
“The Zone of Interest” thrusts viewers into the ostensibly ordinary lives of Auschwitz Commandant Rudolf Höss, portrayed by Christian Friedel, and his wife Hedwig, played by Sandra Hüller. The Höss residence, situated alarmingly close to the walls of the infamous death camp, presents a paradox—on one side, a family earnestly striving for domestic happiness, and on the other, the scene of some of the most horrifying atrocities ever committed.
However, in a remarkable departure from more conventional depictions, Jonathan Glazer—whose screenplay is only loosely based on Martin Amis’ novel of the same name—deliberately obscures the horrors, relegating them to the shadows of the narrative. Instead, he trains the lens on the mundanity of their daily existence, where the primary conflicts revolve around the pursuit of an idyllic “paradise garden” and the potential upheaval caused by a career promotion that could force the Höss family to vacate their dream home, complete with children and a handful of Polish housemaids.
This exceedingly subtle approach, which eschews the sensationalism seen in countless other Holocaust portrayals, elicits emotions that are considerably more profound and spine-chilling. By abstaining from the graphic depictions often associated with the Holocaust, Glazer fills in the cinematic gaps that have been neglected, ultimately crafting an experience far more disconcerting than anything it could have explicitly shown. The enduring potency of “The Zone of Interest” lies in its unyielding restraint.
In the unflinching gaze of Jonathan Glazer’s camera, which remains cold and emotionally detached, we bear witness to Hedwig’s daily routines—her nurturing of the children and tending to the garden. All the while, the horrors surrounding their seemingly picturesque home serve as a haunting backdrop. Gunshots pierce the air, muffled screams echo, and ominous smokestacks loom in the distance, casting a shadow over domestic matters. These haunting moments, underscored by Mica Levi’s garbled yet deeply unsettling score, transform “The Zone of Interest” into an auditory shockwave that strikes at the very core, often penetrating straight through it. Importantly, these instances are never overplayed; instead, they are meticulously crafted, constantly unsettling the mind with their unrelenting jolts.
Glazer’s vision is purposefully stark and stripped down, challenging and redefining the conventional narrative approach to Holocaust stories. More broadly, “The Zone of Interest” takes aim at indicting human nature rather than solely laying blame on the Nazis. It searingly captures how evil can be reduced to the mundane—a routine task to be completed. Here, discussing the efficiency of an incinerator bears an eerie resemblance to a routine budget meeting, underscoring the unsettling normalcy that can envelop acts of unspeakable horror.
A significant source of the film’s potency resides in its exquisitely agonizing cinematography, meticulously crafted by Łukasz Żal. The compositions are deliberate and static, akin to still-life paintings that encapsulate unimaginable horrors beyond their borders. The Höss residence is captured with an ethereal quality, rendering it eerily reminiscent of a modern-day Eden during daylight hours.
As night descends, Jonathan Glazer employs negative film in a shrewd inversion of the narrative, transforming clandestine and humane acts into something alien and enigmatic. The visual shift reverts to vibrant color photography upon returning to the Höss household. This technique is a compelling visual subversion that gains even greater impact when Glazer saturates the frame with bold and solid colors, serving as a stark contrast that underscores the inhumanity lurking at the core of these ostensibly human characters.
Christian Friedel’s earnest and nuanced performance lends an uncomfortably relatable quality to Rudolf Höss. The character of Rudolf is never depicted as a caricatured, mustache-twirling villain. Instead, he is portrayed as a man who engages in everyday acts like reading bedtime stories to his children and cherishing his wife’s smile. It is precisely his unassuming acceptance of his position and the life he leads that underscores the monstrosity of his actions. The film doesn’t paint him in broad strokes but rather delves into the banality of evil.
Sandra Hüller also delivers a remarkable performance, capturing the essence of a woman who is willing to go to great lengths to preserve her idealized life. Her character deftly reminds the household staff of what her husband is capable of if even the slightest mistakes are made, showcasing her chilling determination to maintain her dream existence.
Final Verdict of The Zone of Interest
The Zone of Interest stands as a unique and profound portrayal that delves into the horrors of the Holocaust and the unsettling normalcy of evil. Its masterful and fourth-wall-breaking conclusion serves as a damning indictment of human consciousness, hinting that under the right circumstances, each member of the audience could be capable of committing equally despicable acts.
“The Zone of Interest” left a lasting impact when it screened as part of the 2023 Toronto International Film Festival.
