Lucas Versantvoort / May 3, 2015
It’s always fascinating to see how WWII still lives on. The question of
remembering vs letting bygones be bygones is still as relevant as ever. It
seems like every year or so another film on the Holocaust is released. All the
more interesting then when it’s Germany releasing such a film. Im Labyrinth des Schweigens takes a (for
me at least) little explored subsection of postwar Germany, the Frankfurt
Auschwitz Trials that started in 1963.
Johann Radmann is a
typical protagonist: a young and ambitious lawyer. Besides the fact he, like
many of his countrymen, is oblivious to the horrors of Auschwitz and the
Holocaust is his only character flaw. When an angry journalist alerts him to
this fact, he starts to pursue the case of the unprosecuted SS officers with
unmatched zeal. Time and again, however, he finds himself with confronted with
a society either too ignorant or too unwilling to air its dirty laundry, to
really get its troubled past out in the open. Nevertheless, after a herculean
effort on the part of Radmann and others, the trial did eventually took place
which led to the conviction of 17 people—Gestapos, dentists, adjutants and so
on—who were involved in the horrors of Auschwitz.
If there’s anything Im Labyrinth des Schweigens does well,
it’s conveying the very silence conveyed in the title. The notion that Nazism
was rooted out with the Nuremberg trials is treated with great disdain by the
film. The film conveys the naiveté of many of Germany’s citizens at the time as
well as their reasons for doing so. There’s a short scene that perfectly
encapsulates this idea: Radmann and his superior are at odds with two
colleagues. One of them states that digging up this part of Germany’s past can
only do more harm than good. Just now, when we’re ‘trying to move on’, a case
like this might force every German child to look at his parents with suspicion.
Such an effect is toxic he claims to which Radmann’s superior responds that
it’s precisely the forced silence which is toxic, particularly in a democracy
which is still so young. In a single short scene we’re treated to a convincing representation
of both sides of the argument.
The film has two
weaknesses: strange tonal shifts and a boring, irrelevant romance. The first
one is difficult to describe as it makes it sound like I wanted Im Labyrinth to be a melodramatic
trauermarsch of sorts with zero comic relief. This is not the case. Aptly timed
humor and other non-dramatic content can add greatly to character development
and so on, but with Im Labyrinth I
felt there were certain tonal inconsistencies. It also doesn’t help the film
features an incredibly forced romance between Radmann and a young woman. I get
that the romance is there to generate a conflict not dissimilar to Fincher’s
Zodiac, where the investigator’s family life is threatened by his obsessions.
Im Labyrinth tries to do the same thing, but—save for a few moments—the romance
is never really connected to the main storyline, so it feels like an afterthought.
There’s also some really cringe-worthy writing: during their first (and thankfully
only) lovemaking session, she for
some reason tells him that ‘life’s good’…uhh, okay. You see where I’m going
with this? It just feels like it’s going through the motions. The filmmakers
first create the obligatory romance and then threaten to disrupt it to make us
feel for Radmann, but it never works. This is made all the more strange by the
fact that a certain plot twist regarding Radmann’s own family is far more
convincing in making us feel for him.
All in all though,
despite the occasional cringe, Im
Labyrinth des Schweigens is very interesting to watch. In the end, it
undeniably succeeds at what is undoubtedly its main task: illuminating the why
and how of Germany’s postwar silence on the Holocaust.
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