The Boy in the Striped Pajamas (2008)

There is nothing quite so inspiring as going to the movies by oneself. Not that I didn't try to round up some company last night, but in the end, when I realized I was going solo, I remembered that one of my two favorite activities in my world is going to the movies. (The other is cuddling if you're curious). This feeling of social, cinematic independence can often be accentuated by the chosen film - sure if feels great to catch the latest, entertaining Hollywood fluff when you want to shut your mind off, but to sit in a crowded room full of other film lovers to see a Holocaust movie on a Friday night? Well, that's a rare experience indeed and has an intense sensation of importance all its own. So it was with me last night at the Roxy when I went to see The Boy with the Striped Pajamas.

The basics: Set in early 1940's Germany, The Boy with the Striped Pajamas is the story of Bruno (Asa Butterfield), an adventurous and clever boy whose family moves from Berlin to the country after his father, a high ranking Nazi officer (played expertly by David Thewlis), receives a promotion. The promotion, we learn, is to go look after "the farm" where people "in pajamas" live and work. Bored and restless, one day Bruno escapes his mother's gaze (a mesmerizing Vera Farmiga) and runs excitedly through the beautiful woods that separate his home from the camp. When he reaches the gate he meets a little boy named Schmuel (the adorable Jack Scanlon) and they begin a friendship from either side of the barbed wire, electric fence, which as you may have guessed, results in heartbreaking consequences.

The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is many things, but the first words that consistently come to mind every time I think about it (which is nearly every other minute since I saw it less than 18 hours ago), are beautiful and excruciating. Director Mark Herman's film, based upon John Boyne's book of the same name, is nothing short of a complete success. I urge you all to see it. Please go see this movie.

Beautiful: I have to admit, it's difficult for me to watch WWII films, despite the fact that I am very drawn to them. Perhaps that's the case with many, but Holocaust films in particular I actually make a point not to watch. I have still managed to avoid Schindler's List and The Pianist (when do you ever really go to the video store and say, oh yea, Schindler's List, that sounds like a great pick for tonight. I just picked up that noose at the hardware store so we should be all set!). But this film appealed to me in description, and execution, with its unique perspective. While it's put some critics off, The Boy with the Striped Pajamas is told from the perspective of two very special, yet somehow very ordinary little boys. Not to mention they are two of the cutest kid actors I've seen in a long time, and not only aesthetically. They are made more appealing by their immense talent to not only handle the subject matter, but do so skillfully and appropriately. The curiosity of children and their uncanny ability to simplify life down to right and wrong, played against their inability to understand the complexities of hate and hysteria, adds an essential vulnerability to the film and creates an unforgettable backdrop in which to interpret just a few of the heinous crimes committed at Nazi concentration camps.


Excruciating: Well, certainly there is the obvious, and for a couple of Jews like Millie and me, she having lived during the entire thing, Holocaust movies offer up an intensely direct punch to the gut. (Plus the boy who plays Schmuel, Jack Scanlon, looks startlingly like a very good friend of mine from college, someone very dear to my heart.) The expected aside, this film is exceedingly difficult to watch for a couple of other reasons. One, it is told from a German perspective, so we're not only handed the evil Nazi, but also the compassionate, concerned father, who sincerely cares about his family's welfare, torn by duty but also bound by it, and the loving, intelligent mother who struggles with her own sense of nationalism as she continues to learn more about her husband's post. You simply cannot blindly hate every Nazi presented in the film and that's disconcerting. Two, the ending. Perhaps you will guess it, but I had absolutely no idea what was to happen. The brilliant timing, the course of events, well, there is nothing more to say than excruciating. I cannot remember crying so much in a film, especially in a room full of others. And we're not talking about a few tears streaming down my face, what I mean dear readers, is that I was bawling. It began so quickly, but was unstoppable, uncontrollable, and will remain me with for some time.

I think a critic's tendency to say a film is "important" puts cinephiles off - "who are they to say a film is 'important'" - and it comes off as pretentious perhaps. But readers forgive me, as I can say nothing less of this film: it is incredibly important. Again, more than any other film reviewed so far, than perhaps La Haine (the only perfect score yet) I strongly recommend that you see The Boy in the Striped Pajamas.

Millie bees to knees meter (1 bee = blah, 10 bees = hoo-rah): 9