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5.0 out of 5 starsMinimalistic, But Mind Blowing With Context
Reviewed in the United States on May 9, 2022
My rating is more of a 4.5
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On July 7th, 1753 the Parliament of Great Britain approved the ‘Jewish Naturalization Act’; this ruling was proposed with the goal of making the process of becoming a British Subject equitable for Jewish immigrants as they were previously required to take the Christian Sacrament prior to being naturalized. This act allowed Jews that had been living in Britain for a minimum of three years to petition for citizenship while simultaneously remaining devoted to their Jewish faith.
Debates related to this ordinance are the supposed origin of the “Jewish question”, with this expression acting as a proxy for disapproval towards the singularity of Jews as a separate community of individuals amongst a heightened sense of nationalism and the creation of new Nation-States. Related points of contention escalated further, and it wasn’t long until the “Jewish Question” would directly parallel with anti-semitic policies.
Dramatized in ‘𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒚’, on January 20th, 1942 the Wannsee Conference was held in Berlin with a number of senior government officials of Nazi Germany for the purposes of preparing and submitting an officiated “Final Solution to the Jewish Question” during World War II.
Contrary to popular belief, there are reasons to think that the individual participants of the Wannsee Conference didn’t think of their meeting as a crystalizing or grandiosely achieving moment. Having been published almost a decade earlier on September 15th, 1935, The Nuremberg Laws were enacted so as to expel Jewish influence from German Society; in the most gracious of terms, the hope at the time was to encourage their emigration elsewhere by making it impossible for Jews to conduct business and go on about their daily lives.
The catch, and likely not mentioned during the Wannsee Conference as it could be presumed as common knowledge, were additional qualifiers that made voluntary emigration all the less viable, with an example of such being the requirement that a Jewish person remit as much as ninety percent of their own wealth in taxes before leaving Germany. Economically compromising, and essentially kindling damaged collateral, by 1938 potential Jewish emigrants (willing or otherwise) were limited in terms of territories that were inclined to accept them. In creating and reinforcing a narrative that claims Jews come with turmoil one could then posture their own dedication to ‘expelling them away’ as an extension of allyship in a numerically tangible manner; this not only explains the fixation on exact numbers that dominate much of 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒚’s dialogue (that otherwise feels like logistical hoo-hah), but the suggested urgency as it relates to specific areas of Europe and the USSR.
On a number of occasions 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒚 reminds us that a majority of the individuals present at the Wannsee Conference had previous experience studying law. While this doesn’t drive an immediate wedge between humanity and some sense of civic duty, relative conversations allude to a larger set of standards that were preemptively advertised as “laws intended to protect German blood”. This protection felt imperative at the time as Germany’s economy had started to suffer, and this necessitated schmoozing here-and-there as to justify the possibility of hurting someone with German ancestry without having it weigh too heavily on their conscience. This is reflected in laws that encouraged discretion when deciding if one is “acting like a Jew” (with no clear indication as to what this means), and the meticulousness that prowls about this dramatized version of the Wannsee Conference; consequently, this practically lends to entertaining antagonistic points of view save “accurate” depictions of ambivalence or discord that are specific to the subject of mass murder or violence. To screenwriter Loring Mandel’s credit, it is unfortunate that no-one can know for certain what was said during this meeting, but much of the dialogue is framed in a way that suggests industrialized genocide was both novel and taboo as a strategy when the contextualized lexicon can simultaneously interpret this conference as little more than a cooperative spearhead: in so many words, it was instrumental in making the Schutzstaffel (SS for short, and German for ‘protective echelon’) take on and accept official responsibility for a larger culturally-imposed obligation.
Points of methodology aside (as Senior Colonel Adolf Eichmann admitted that this topic was discussed, but was deleted from the Wannsee Protocol), 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒚 goes out of its own way to explore contradictory material by superimposing conversations that are possible despite being contextually unlikely. Namely, on the topic of psychological repercussions, Major Rudolph Lange presents as the reluctant soldier that expresses concern over the residual effect of “evacuating Jews” on Germany’s own soldiers, but little biographical material substantiates this pontificated consideration outside of what is now known in general about military service and its relationship with PTSD.
The same can be said for Chancellor Friedrich Wilhelm Kritzinger, who for theatrical purposes is the sole voice of notable ethical dissent despite only having his attendance confirmed during the Wannsee Conference and little acknowledgement of a contribution made by him that would warrant a dramatic reproduction. This characterization, while potentially misplaced, isn’t too much of a stretch oddly enough: Kritzinger was the 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 participant to express feelings of remorse or shame during his post-war interrogation, and consequently makes him appropriate as a vessel of friction for viewers to identify with outside of the more typified portrayals of Nazis in the cinematic medium.
What is more important than these fictionalized protests, however, is what’s true according to the detailed minutes in combination with a historical endorsement of industrialized genocide: administrative hardships and perceived expendability of labor would always take priority over the guarantee of “livable conditions” for individuals deemed ‘Jewish enough’ to be deported or “forcibly evacuated”, and the Wannsee Conference was about much more than justifying or condoning what is now presumed to have been catergorized as unethical behavior.
On its own, 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒚 can best be summated as a phalanx of informed speculation, and this is perhaps out of necessity given the vagueness of the Wannsee Protocol and edits made by both Eichmann and Reinhard Heydrich before their official distribution. Nonetheless, the relative notes (which only one surviving copy of this protocol was found in the German Foreign Office in 1947) have since provided insight regarding the bureaucratic aspects of the Hitler regime, and Mandel’s writing reads between the lines with both curiosity and cautioned plausibility. It is likely that 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒚 isn’t the first time audience members have been or will be subjected to the ramblings of at least twelve angry men, and this collective indignation comes to a grueling point when Eichmann berates a guard for acting out of uniform and adds further that deviation from a determined fault “never ever just happens”.
Semblances of subjective or disposable empathy can only be stretched so thin for these dramatized accomplices - because, despite any musings, that’s what they are - but Frank Pierson’s direction in combination with his tenacious leads (Namely, Kenneth Branagh, who’s quite chilling as Heydrich) unveils a terrifying lesson in scrupulousness and toxified patriotism. Men - especially in groups, and especially those with a chain of command - are nothing like the monsters that hide in our closets or take refuge underneath our beds.
Sometimes they’re actually much worse.