Cast: Liam Neeson, Ralph Fiennes, and Ben Kingsley
Director: Steven Spielberg
195 minutes (15) 1993
Universal Blu-ray region B
Rating: 7/10
Review by Christopher Geary
Based on Australian writer Thomas Keneally’s novel, this
drama tells the true story about a German industrial businessman who saved over
1,000 Jews from the Nazi death camps after the invasion of Poland. A
distinguishing feature of this movie, setting it apart from other examples of
late 20th century cinema about WW2 - such as John Boorman’s Hope And Glory (1987) - is that it was
made in black-and-white. Unlike the art-house styling of Japanese production Black Rain (1989), about the aftermath
of the Hiroshima bombing, Schindler’s
List manages to overcome that pretentious approach of a modern drama filmed
in B&W, partly because Spielberg’s directorial focus explores fussy little
details, in scenes often resembling archive footage, that’s probably intended
to grant this movie an historical authenticity.
However, despite its inordinate length (three hours
runtime), it clearly lacks a colourfully corruptive decadence, as seen more
recently in Paul Verhoeven’s Dutch blockbuster Black Book (2006), of the Nazi regime, here depicted in sombre
tones of brutal grey, seemingly done in order to de-glamorise a negative
culture’s most nostalgic era of yesteryear, and define its marketable period
setting. It appears unlikely that Spielberg’s reasoning was to help generate a
moody style of realistic horror, because human reality or cinema realism are
generally no longer effective in monochrome. In modern cinema, B&W film is
simply an anachronistic affectation, so rarely evoking a timeless quality of
noir-ish documentary intensity, as perhaps was intended here. Filming in B&W for a modern movie is subtraction, not addition. Consequently, this feels something like a museum piece. Schindler’s
List is a museum of a movie.
Spielberg’s other works set during wartime include the
hugely popular adventures of the superheroic ‘Indiana Jones’, that began with Raiders Of The Lost Ark (1981); the
widely praised epic drama Empire Of The
Sun (1987), based on an autobiographical novel by SF author J.G. Ballard;
and the critically acclaimed Saving
Private Ryan (1998). But since it’s arguable that all of the above are much
better WW2 entertainments than Schindler’s
List, it remains surprising that none of them score quite as highly as the
8.9/10 on IMDb star ratings. Laden with Oscars, this movie looks designed to
embody that particular prize of worthiness where its entertainment and
socio-political values satisfy the Academy’s woke criteria for annual awards.
Here, Spielberg embraces a studied adherence to wholly
respectful depictions of religion, and its varied ceremonies like Jewish
prayers, in conflict with the godless atheism of the Nazis. A tolerance of the
faithful and their virtuous community spirit also stands in sharp contrast to
the barking hatred from a rampant Nazism that provokes a tearfully nervous
reaction or dumb catatonic shock. The certain angelic poses of a meekly
suffering people whose lives are crushed, snuffed out, and callously destroyed
by the jackboots of fascism is quite plainly a one-sided portrait of Holocaust
events. This righteous dignity vies with a typically Spielbergian
sentimentality for the movie’s central vibe.
So where are this Oscar-winning picture’s innate
qualities to be found? Emotional impacts from a moral repugnance of damned
Nazism is, of course, self-evident, along with a story of an ultimately fragile
sense of humanity in grim situations of mortal desperation. There is a notable
sequence where, to escape violent extermination in the ghetto, some of the
persecuted Jews fled into the sewers. Later, the haunting symbolism of the
little girl in a red coat represents the splashy colour of blood on the
outside, not inside the body where it belongs. This, iconic bad omen and other
sympathetic narratives of human folly in war, combine with arty cinema
compositions to ensure Schindler’s List
meets the demands of rich tone and presentational style for primed for expectations
of success at the Oscars.
Were the much feared Schutzstaffel, here represented by
the psychotic SS officer Amon Goeth (Ralph Fiennes), actually no better as
trained German soldiers than serial killers in uniform? Laughter at needless
cruelty usually signifies a degree of sadism, and there’s a blurry line between
the presentation of bluntly appalling images of a genocidal massacre for
educational value, and wallowing in an accurate recreation of atrocity merely
for the sake of a movie about systematic racism. So the artistic decision to
shoot in B&W might be viewed as a methodical avoidance of the commercial
aspect, a choice prompted by the necessity for graphic depictions of terror and
extreme violence that are clearly believable and unnerving, and yet without the
risk of becoming rather too seethingly grotesque for any comfortably aware
viewing by a family audience. The movie’s B&W images maintain a safe
distance from an unwatchable exploitation of the Holocaust, central to a
European catastrophe which still has lingering effects upon the continental
society of today.
Extras:
This 25th anniversary edition for Blu-ray includes a
bonus disc of special features.
Schindler’s List:
25 Years Later - director Spielberg joins actors Neeson, Kingsley, Embeth Davidtz,
and Caroline Goodall, at the Tribeca film festival to reflect on the making of
the film and its legacy.
Voices From The List - a feature-length documentary with
testimonies from Holocaust survivors and archival footage.
USC Shoah Foundation story - with Spielberg.
