“The Reader” is a frequently moving film whose
thought-provoking subject is severely damaged by director Stephen Daldry and
screenwriter David Hare’s wrongheaded approach to it. It begins as a
coming-of-age romance between a teenage boy and an older woman hiding dark
secrets and persists in remaining one to the end, common sense be hanged.
The film’s
entire premise – that of a teenager just below most nations’ ages of consent
having an affair with a woman whom he later discovers to have been a war
criminal – is morally ambiguous and thus requires caution on the filmmakers’
part in order to explore it intelligently. To Daldry and Hare’s credit, the
effort is most certainly present, particularly in the penultimate scene in
which the grown-up protagonist (Ralph
Fiennes) meets a survivor’s daughter (Lena
Olin), leading to a conversation in which he both struggles to come to
terms with his lover’s crimes while also trying to justify his feelings for
her. The superb combination of Fiennes’s half-maintained composure with Lena
Olin’s calm but firm indignation make it the film’s best scene, and a glimpse
of how excellent the film could have been had Daldry’s sentimentality been
balanced by a greater sense of moral perspective.
The part
of the film dealing with the affair is filmed with such sensuality – expressed particularly
well by Roger Deakins’ admirable-as-always lighting and framing – that one is
almost tempted to overlook the fact that what is displayed is essentially
statutory rape. A fact that Daldry does not appear entirely unaware of, as
evidenced by the way he shoots Hanna (Kate
Winslet) closing in on 15 year-old Michael (David Kross) with a towel: First from a semi-subjective low-angle
shot that suggests Michael’s point of view from the bathtub, then by placing
his camera right next to the towel and following Michael rising from the tub to
wrap himself in the towel, as the following shot reveals Hanna naked from
behind, holding the towel. This succession of images gives the viewer an
impression of a hunter successfully ensnaring her prey. The following close
shots of Michael’s nervous reactions to her kissing his back reinforce that
idea, even as the rest of the film plays the romance angle quite straight.
Wherein lies the major problem in the later revelation of Hanna’s past.
By the
time he discovers the truth, Michael is a law student studying German guilt
during World War II. He is taken on a trip to a trial of SS guards by his Holocaust-surviving
professor (Bruno Ganz, surely a casting
decision based on his daring portrayal of Adolf Hitler in “Downfall”), who spends the film serving as the
voice of German conscience rather than a character in his own right. He
discovers Hanna was one of those guards. As the judge repeatedly asks her why
she knowingly sent so many Jews to die, she can only reply “Well, what would
you have done?” It’s neither a display of defiance nor a rhetorical question.
She is honestly confused; the idea of defying orders, of NOT letting Jews die,
seems beyond her grasp. This would imply that Hanna may be a sociopath, yet
Kate Winslet’s outstanding multilayered performance suggests something more
complicated. Her past displays of bottled-up shame and mood swings point
towards possible remorse, or at least an emotionally violent reaction to being
reminded of the past. Add this to her quasi-childlike incomprehensive attitude
at the trial, and Hanna looks less like an evil sociopath and more like someone
so morally blinded that she may as well be have been living on another plane of
existence altogether, until she was violently brought back to Earth. She is in
fact so outside of the common moral sphere that she is more ashamed of her
illiteracy – a twist most viewers will have easily guessed by now – than of causing
so many innocent people to die.
Michael’s
horrified realization that the woman he loved – or at least, in his teenage
mind, thought he loved – was not only actively complicit in one of the worst
crimes in human history but didn’t have any qualms about it, had the potential
for great drama. And at first, it appears to be fulfilling that potential:
After some hesitation, Michael decides to deliberately withhold knowledge of
Hanna’s illiteracy so that she may be condemned to a full life sentence. Years
pass, Michael gets married, has a daughter, then divorces, but Hanna remains on
his mind. He is still torn between love, disgust and incomprehension.
Eventually, he sends her audio tapes of himself reading books he used to read
to her, as both a way to communicate his feelings to her and supposedly give
her a chance at redemption by teaching herself to read. An act of mutual
redemption for the pain each has given to the other.
There
lies another problem with the story that isn’t truly addressed until the
penultimate scene: Among the 11 million people – Jews, Gypsies, homosexuals and
others – killed during the Holocaust, Hanna has been directly responsible for
over 300. And Michael is making this all about him! As if the affront to his feelings was somehow more important
than the affront to the victims and their families. The problem isn’t Michael’s
self-centeredness, it’s the way the film validates and endorses it by
portraying Hanna’s quest to learn how to read and write as some form of redemption,
as if being able to read would somehow have made all the difference back then.
Stephen
Daldry has always been a somewhat heavy-handed director, but he has distinctly improved
since “Billy Elliot”. His shots are
more varied and more imaginatively-constructed, and he directs his actors in a
way that allows them to interact more naturally within the frame, rather than
appear prisoners of the scene’s desired mood as most did in “The Hours”. However, some of his
on-the-nose tendencies still persist: The revelation of Hanna’s illiteracy is
punctuated by flashbacks to every hint that led to it; Michael’s fateful
decision to not visit Hanna in prison loses its efficiency by the show of him
turning around and walking back, rather than let his pause and subsequent
absence from the line of visitors speak for themselves. While the actors –
especially Kate Winslet – perform admirably, the use of German-accented English
rather than subtitled German sometimes results in such awkward, unnatural
sights as a crowd of spectators shouting “Nazi whore!” at Hanna in German
accents, further exposing the film’s artifice.
“The Reader” chooses to emphasize romance
and sensuality over its examination of guilt, forgiveness and responsibility.
In doing so, it not only wastes its opportunity as a character study, it grossly
simplifies one of the worst atrocities ever committed by man.
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