The Zone of (public) interest.
The banality of evil.
The Zone of Interest (Interessengebiet) was a term used by the Nazis to describe the 40-square kilometers zone surrounding the Auschwitz extermination camp, in German-annexed Poland. More than the title, Jonathan Glazer worked with the Auschwitz memorial to produce the most accurate description of the Höss family, from people who had worked in their house or camp survivors. The movie, through the in-depth research that was made beforehand, is an accurate depiction of the banality of evil embedded in Nazi ideology. If The Zone of Interest was a question, it would certainly be how to depict dehumanization without showing it. Indeed, what makes Glazer’s work masterful is its ability not to show, the viewer can guess everything. It is a work that trusts the viewer to have a historical culture allowing them to understand the film. By doing so, The Zone of Interest forces us to take a cold look at the mundanity behind an unforgivable brutality. Without showing it, Glazer throws the full horror of Auschwitz into the eyes – and mostly the ears – of the viewer. We watch the scenes of monstrous banality, with in the back of our minds the images of the camps that we all already know, reality is tapping persistently on the viewer's shoulder.
The Höss family enjoying the garden, next to the camp.
Some scenes particularly depict the banality of evil and dehumanization within the context of the Holocaust, showcasing how ordinary moments can be intertwined with unimaginable cruelty. In one of the early scenes, Hedwig Höss, the commandant’s wife, portrayed brilliantly by Sandra Hüller, is seen sharing clothes with her friends, acquired from Kanada, the area where confiscated belongings were stored. Among these items, she chooses to keep a fur coat, emphasizing the trivialization of human suffering in the face of material comfort. Hedwig Höss further illustrates the dehumanizing nature of the regime when she threatens a Polish servant, suggesting that her husband could also burn her. Brutality is rendered simple, easy, and normal.
There is no hope of humanity from the camp director. The viewer knows it. It is his wife, Hedwig, who illustrates the banality. Hedwig's outburst during a potential relocation, expressing a desire for the life they've always dreamed of, encapsulates the delusion and moral bankruptcy of those involved in perpetuating the Holocaust. It reflects a disturbing detachment from the suffering of others and a prioritization of personal comfort over human life. She would never go to the camp, and she has no interest in doing so. The depiction of Rudolf Höss engaging in sexual relations with a prisoner underscores the cynical and hypocritical nature of the perpetrators of the Holocaust. This prisoner, victim of Höss in the most direct terms, almost make them ridiculous. She exposes the stark contrast between the facade of normalcy and the depravity lurking beneath the surface. Lastly, the children of the Höss family playing a macabre game of counting the gold teeth of gas chamber victims serves as a haunting reminder of the desensitization fostered by racist ideologies, to grow up in violence renders it natural. Innocent children are shaped by pervasive atmospheres of violence and cruelty.
Despite the darkness, the film allows a glimpse of humanity through various characters, without falling into any sort of drama effect. The young Polish girl who hides apples for the prisoners is one of them. Filmed using night vision, the portrayal of Alexandria is the symbolic light in face of constant dehumanization. Alexandria, whom Glazer encountered during his research, was a 12-year-old member of the Polish resistance, cycling to the camp to hide provisions to the starving working prisoners. Her story mirrors that depicted in the film, where she also uncovers a piece of music authored by a prisoner named Joseph Wulf. Wulf, a Polish Jewish resistance fighter, survived the horrors of the camp and dedicated his life to documenting the atrocities of the Holocaust. Alexandria's remarkable legacy, as well as Wulf's enduring commitment to preserving Yiddish music, are reminders of resilience. The bike and the dress of the actress both belonged to her. Alexandria died at 90 years old, shortly after meeting Glazer.
The relationship between Hedwig and her mother also partially illustrates humanity. The discomfort of Hedwig Höss's mother with the smell of the crematoriums, leading her to leave discreetly, highlights the normalized acceptance of horror within the camp environment. It illustrates how individuals become desensitized to the atrocities surrounding them, even within their own families. When Hedwig Höss reads the letter wrote by the leaving mother, she callously burns it in the stove. This act of indifference towards personal connections reflects the moral degradation and the irreconcilable split from what was left of humanity.
To best represent banality, Glazer chose to hide cameras throughout the house, thus giving the actors space to wander, talk, and go about their activities. The weight of the camera is reduced as much as possible, and it is one of the few movies about the Holocaust that avoids falling into a sensationalism or an easy pathos. Claude Lanzmann, famously known for his 1985 monumental ten-hours Shoah documentary, never hid his opposition towards filmmakers trying to turn the Holocaust into a drama movie, such as Schindler’s List. Lanzmann, alongside other filmmakers like Stanley Kubrick, despised the gentile character of Schindler, saving humanity in the face of the horror. Lanzmann, who only used interviews in his documentary, argued that there is a certain degree of horror that cannot be transmitted. To try to show it is a mistake that does not serve the duty of memory. Some things can never be recreated. Lanzmann’s documentary took 10 years to film, and was included in the UNESCO's Memory of the World. Shoah is an absolute cinematographic reference.
Other pieces achieved a similar praise, such as Son of Saul from Lázló Nemes, Grand Prize winner of the 2015 Cannes Film Festival. Here, Nemes was inspired by a former prisoner interviewed by Lanzmann, Abraham Bomba, a member of a Sonderkommando and "hairdresser" at the Treblinka extermination camp. He was responsible for cutting women's hair just before their extermination in the gas chambers. In his film, Nemes tells the unique journey of a man determined at all costs to bury a child he believes to be his son. A contrario to Schindler’s List, Nemes took the bet, like Glazer, to not indulge into a horror spectacle. Instead, Nemes films at eye level, close shot, making the background always appear blurry. Like Glazer, we don't necessarily see everything, but we can guess the horror. Both of these films trust viewers to understand what is not shown. To achieve that result, Glazer uses the second movie, sounds. The true horror lies not in what is seen, but rather in what remains unseen. The viewer is constantly reminded of the palpable horror lurking just beyond the frame through sounds. The relentless barking of dogs, the piercing cries of prisoners, the authoritative commands of guards, and the sporadic gunfire all serve as haunting echoes of the atrocities unfolding within the confines of the camp.
This juxtaposition of ordinary settings with the pervasive presence of unspeakable brutality tells more about the chilling reality of life within the Holocaust's shadow than any attempt at recreating it. At large, this movie shows that dehumanization is not far away, it is right behind the garden wall.
The Zone of Interest won the Grand Prize at the Cannes Festival 2023 and an Academy Award for best international feature at the Oscars 2024, amongst others.
