Review: 'The Zone of Interest' is a chilling look at the Holocaust, looking at a family's peaceful complicity outside the walls

It’s been said that fiction can only look obliquely at the Holocaust — that, like an eclipse, the Nazis’ mechanized genocide of 6 million Jews cannot be viewed full-on, because the pain is too intense to witness.

To examine the Holocaust without being overwhelmed by that pain, storytellers have had to find ways to speak around it. Art Spiegelman’s landmark graphic novel “Maus,” which depicted the Jews as mice and the Germans as cats, allowed us to set aside, momentarily, the faces of the slaughtered and the survivors.

Likewise, director Jonathan Glazer’s devastating film “The Zone of Interest” doesn’t show us the death, doesn’t take us into the camps. Instead, and this is the movie’s insidious masterstroke, it shows the people just outside the walls, complicit in what’s happening inside.

The movie is based on Martin Amis’ novel, which fictionalized the story of the commandant of Auschwitz and his family. Glazer restores the real names to these characters, so we meet Rudolf Höss (Christian Friedel), an ambitious Nazi officer, being a good father to the children he and his wife, Hedwig (Sandra Hüller), are raising just outside Auschwitz.

Hedwig works to care for her kids, including their baby, and tend to the house and garden. But any illusion that she doesn’t know what’s happening where her husband works is shattered early on, when a soldier brings a bundle of clothes and a fur coat. The servants go through the clothes, looking for a nice set of underwear, while Hedwig tries on the fur coat and looks at herself in the mirror. Then she puts her hand in a pocket, and finds a tube of lipstick — which she tries on to check the shade, then wipes off. In that brief moment, the audience sees clearly that she knows what happened to the former owner of this coat and lipstick.

When Rudolf is given a promotion, to be in charge of organizing all of Hitler’s death camps, Hedwig’s biggest concern is that she be allowed to keep the house by Auschwitz, on which she has worked so hard. The narrative then splits, with Hedwig working to ignore the smoke overhead while Rudolf is in Berlin, having meetings with other SS officers to put Auschwitz’ tactics in motion elsewhere.

Glazer’s script, and his antiseptic presentation of the Hösses’ deceptively tranquil home life, shows how easy it can be to put unpleasant thoughts out of one’s head if one’s comfort is at risk. The people shown here don’t think about the murders over the wall, because their way of life is conditioned on them not thinking about such things.

The one time Glazer’s camera enters the camp is the most chilling scene in “The Zone of Interest,” but not for the reasons one might suspect. Those scenes are a flash-forward, to the Auschwitz of today, preserved as a museum and historical monument — a reminder of what happened and can’t be allowed to happen again. Even here, though, Glazer shows it in the most mundane way possible, giving the audience the choice to consider the minor details to keep from facing the horrific whole truth.

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‘The Zone of Interest’

★★★★

Opens Friday, January 26, at the Broadway Centre Cinemas (Salt Lake City). Rated PG-13 for thematic material, some suggestive material and smoking. Running time: 105 minutes; in German, with subtitles.

Review: 'All of Us Strangers' looks at how memory comforts and cocoons, in a tender drama led by Andrew Scott's riveting performance

The strength of memory, and the fragility of it, are on display in “All of Us Strangers,” writer-director Andrew Haigh’s hauntingly tender drama about a writer stuck between his past and his potential future.

Adam, played beautifully by Andrew Scott (“Fleabag,” “Sherlock”), is a screenwriter living alone in a sparsely populated London apartment block. When there’s a fire alarm, he dutifully heads down the stairs and outside — and notices one of the few other tenants, still with his light on, upstairs. That neighbor, Harry (Paul Mescal), ventures down sometime later, rather drunk, offering Adam to join him in a drink. Adam declines in the moment, but leaves open the possibility to meet up another time.

Adam, seeking inspiration for his screenplay, takes the train out to the suburbs, to his childhood home. When he knocks on the door, he’s surprised when his parents, played by Jamie Bell and Claire Foy, answer and welcome him in. It’s surprising because they look just as they did 30 years ago, when Adam was 12 — and they died in a car crash.

The chance to get a hug from Mum or talk with Dad is so appealing that Adam, for the moment, doesn’t think about the impossibility of it all. He returns to the house a few more times, but the visits get more awkward — particularly when Mum reacts badly to the news that Adam doesn’t have any girlfriends and is, in fact, gay.

Meanwhile, Adam and Harry start seeing more of each other — and things get serious enough that Adam considers taking Harry to meet his parents, as odd as that may seem.

Haigh, adapting the novel “Strangers” by the Japanese author Taichi Yamada (who died in November), gently shows Adam trying to reconcile his childhood memory of his parents with his now-adult viewpoint of who they were and who they might have become had they lived. Haigh also forces Adam to consider whether he can live in a comfortable past or face an uncertain future, possibly with Harry in it.

The movie gathers together a quartet of fine acting. Mescal’s turn as an unsteady paramour is touching, and Foy and Bell are compelling as the mid-‘90s young parents who learn on the fly as they reckon with the fact of their little boy being a grown man. And Scott gives a stirring performance, as Adam balances between childhood memories and the reality of his life. The combination of these four actors, and Haigh’s careful handling of Adam’s journey, gives “All of Us Strangers” an emotional punch that a viewer will find hard to shake.

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‘All of Us Strangers’

★★★1/2

Opens Friday, January 26, in theaters. Rated R for sexual content, language and some drug use. Running time: 105 minutes.

Review: 'I.S.S.' is a chillingly authentic about zero gravity, but a dramatically inert thriller

The space-based “I.S.S.” is a thriller with few thrills, putting six characters in a very confined space with very few places to go — literally and narratively.

The setting is in the title: The International Space Station, described in the opening title cards as a haven for peaceful scientific exploration with Americans and Russians working harmoniously. Two Americans arrive on the I.S.S. as the movie starts — newbie biologist Kira Foster (Ariana DeBose, cashing in her Oscar chip) and veteran Christian Campbell (John Gallagher Jr.). They join the American commander, Gordon Barrett (Chris Messina), and three Russian scientists, Alexey Pull (“Game of Thrones’” Pilou Asbaek), Nicholai Pulov (Costa Ronin) and Weronika Vetrov (Masha Mashkova).

In the early scenes, screenwriter Nick Shafir and director Gabriela Cowperthwaite (“Megan Leavey”) show the easy camaraderie among the Americans and Russians. Gordon banters good-naturedly with Alexey over a beloved Scorpions song, while we also see that Gordon and Weronika are failing miserably at keeping their romantic relationship a secret. The other astronauts also show Kira, the newcomer, the view of earth from the cupola — an image, she’s told, that has sometimes prompted spiritual awakenings. Kira, a buttoned-down scientist who says she distrusts anyone but herself (which she ascribes to a bad breakup), doesn’t seem to feel anything special when looking at the peaceful planet.

Later, though, Earth isn’t so peaceful. Kira sees explosions on the planet’s surface — and Gordon soon gets a message that the U.S. and the Russians are at war. Gordon is also given orders to take control of the I.S.S. “by any means necessary.” In short order, Christian comments that it’s very likely that Nicholai and the Russians have received the same message from their superiors.

What follows is a cat-and-mouse game where Kira must figure out where her loyalties stand — with her fellow Americans, or with the scientists she trusts, like Weronika and Alexey. And while that might sound good on paper, in execution it’s a snooze. The action is muted, and the motivations are telegraphed well in advance of the payoff.

The upsides for “I.S.S.” is that the cast — particularly DeBose, Asbaek and Mashkova — are engaging, and Cowperthwaite’s attention to authenticity, of how blood spurts in zero-gravity and so on, gives the movie a unique feel. It doesn’t necessarily pay off dramatically, but it’s cool to look at.

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‘I.S.S.’

★★1/2

Opens Friday, January 19, in theaters everywhere. Rated R for some violence and language. Running time: 96 minutes.

Review: 'Freud's Last Session' promises an intellectual prizefight, but its stars barely get to lace up their gloves

If you’re going to stage a false meeting of minds, as the turgid drama “Freud’s Last Session” does, the least a filmmaker can do is deliver on the premise and really let two famous intellectual figures — in this case, the psychoanalyst Sigmund Freud and the author C.S. Lewis — go at it with their philosophical A-game.

The script — adapted from Mark St. Germain’s play by director Matthew Brown and St. Germain — imagines a probably fictitious meeting in London between Freud and Lewis, set on Sept. 3, 1939. This date is important for several reasons: It’s two days after the Nazis invaded Poland, it’s the night when British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain declared that a state of war existed between Germany and the United Kingdom, and it’s three weeks before Freud, suffering from oral cancer, would die (it’s suggested by physician-assisted suicide). 

Why would Lewis, an Oxford don and Christian apologist, visit Freud at the London home where he’s lived for 16 months, ever since escaping Vienna with his daughter, child psychologist Anna Freud (Liv Lisa Fries)? The script tells us Freud invited Lewis, because Lewis had spoofed Freud with a character in a book, a satire of John Bunyan’s “A Pilgrim’s Progress.” 

Beyond that, they would seem to have little in common. Freud, raised Jewish, was an atheist who talked freely about human sexuality, while Lewis (though atheist in his younger days) was a converted Christian who wrote about the existence of God — and, unlike Freud, didn’t care to discuss bedroom matters in casual conversation. 

So Brown and St. Germain are setting us up for a historical version of “My Dinner With Andre,” a no-holds-barred conversation in which these two mental powerhouses debate the existence or nonexistence of God, right? That might have been more interesting that what we get.

Certainly the actors — Anthony Hopkins as the irascible Freud and Matthew Goode as the thoughtful but restrained Lewis — seem game. There are moments where they start digging in, talking about whether the Bible is accurate history or just amassed folklore. But those moments are brief bursts within the sluggish melodrama that’s structured around the two men.

An air raid siren, and an emergency visit to a bomb shelter, trigger Lewis’ PTSD (they’d call it “shell shock” in that era) from his experience in the trenches during World War I. A prosthetic in Freud’s mouth causes the old man pain, and he’s running low on the morphine he’s taking to function. And there’s the backstory of Freud’s complicated relationship with Anna — and her equally complicated relationship with another psychologist, Dorothy Burlingham, who lived with the Freuds in Vienna and moved to London with them. (The script is more sure of Anna and Dorothy’s personal status than many historians are.)

Brown tries to make the story look broader than its stage-based roots, and after a few flashbacks and dream sequences — yes, putting a dream in a movie about Freud is asking for trouble — the viewer wishes the movie would quit trying so hard to be dimly lit and dramatic, and just let the main characters talk. There are some arresting intellects in “Freud’s Last Session,” but they’re left stranded by a story that’s unworthy of their eloquence and brainpower.

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‘Freud’s Last Session’

★★

Opens Friday, January 19, in theaters. Rated PG-13 for thematic material, some bloody/violent images, sexual material and smoking. Running time: 108 minutes.

Review: 'American Fiction' is a lacerating and funny satire of publishing and Black identity, with Jeffrey Wright soaring in a rare leading-man role

Satire doesn’t get more pointed, or more perfectly pitched, than in “American Fiction,” in which first-time director Cord Jefferson launches an important conversation about Black identity and white expectations with wit, humor and soul.

Thelonious “Monk” Ellison, played by Jeffrey Wright, is a novelist who’s in a low point in his career. His confrontational teaching gets him suspended from his college, and his agent Arthur (John Ortiz) tells him his latest novel isn’t getting offers because publishers want “a Black book.” Monk replies, “It is a Black book — I’m Black, and it’s my book.” 

But Arthur’s message is clear: The publishers want stories that conform to their expectations who Black characters are. Monk runs into an example of this when he encounters Sintara Golden (Issa Rae), an author reading her new bestseller, which is chock-full of Black street language and racial stereotypes. 

Monk’s not in the best mental space when this realization hits. His supportive sister, Lisa (Tracee Ellis Ross), dies early in the film, leaving Monk to move back to his family’s oceanside neighborhood and tend to his Alzheimer’s-afflicted mom (Leslie Uggams). He doesn’t much help from his brother, Clifford (Sterling K. Brown), who lives in Tucson, has recently gone through a divorce and is in the process of coming out. 

One night, with all this boiling inside him, Monk gets on his computer, and as a joke writes a story about a deadbeat dad and a drug-dealing son, calls it “My Pafology” and gives himself the alias Stagg R. Leigh (after the folk song about a murder, popularized by Lloyd Price). He sends it to Arthur, who soon calls back with the news that publishers want to buy it.

Jefferson, whose TV career includes writing for “Watchmen” and “The Good Place,” makes a spectacular debut as feature film director and screenwriter. He adapts Percival Everett’s novel, “Erasure,” into a sharply drawn and scathingly funny satire of publishing, academia and the many ways white people blithely dictate how Black people are supposed to look, sound, behave and be represented in culture. 

Wright, so solid as a supporting player in everything from “The Hunger Games” to “The French Dispatch,” takes this rare opportunity at leading-man status and is delightful as Monk. He shifts from anger to impish cynicism to soulful romance (there’s a subplot where Monk meets a charming neighbor played by Erika Alexander) with grace and an underlying exasperation at what his joke has revealed about publishers and their unthinking biases.

As the credits rolled on “American Fiction,” I was a bit bothered by the ending, which suggests a multitude of outcomes without seemingly settling on one. As I thought about it, though, I started to think that I was the problem — that, as a white guy, I expect the ending that makes me feel good as a viewer, not what is best for Monk. Jefferson demonstrates brilliantly how impossible it is to please the white viewers and still stay true to himself and his fascinating, complex, entirely human characters.

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‘American Fiction’

★★★1/2

Opens Friday, January 12, in theaters everywhere. Rated R for language throughout, some drug use, sexual references and brief violence. Running time: 117 minutes.

Review: A musical 'Mean Girls' hits the high notes when Reneé Rapp enters as queen bee Regina George

The new iteration of “Mean Girls” — a movie adaptation of the Broadway musical based on the 2004 movie, all with words written by Tina Fey — bubbles along nicely as it begins, hitting its marks pleasantly but unspectacularly.

Then Reneé Rapp, reprising her role from Broadway, makes her entrance, declaring her character’s name and status — “My name is Regina George, and I’m a massive deal — and this musical kicks into a higher gear.

Regina, the leader of a dominating high school clique known as the Plastics, is the hottest girl in school and knows it — and is aptly described in one of the songs (music by Jeff Richmond, lyrics by Nell Benjamin) as a “apex predator.” When Rapp makes her entrance, the new girl, Cady Heron (Angourie Rice), stares and gawks, and the audience does the same.

Rapp commands this rendition of the story, which Fey based on Rosalind Wiseman’s “Queen Bees and Wannabes,” dissecting the social structure of fictional North Shore High School. Cady, having lived in Kenya with her scientist mom (Jenna Fischer), studies the system as an outsider, like a biologist looking at the animals on the savanna. 

Cady is first treated as an outsider, shunned by everyone except the school’s outcasts, Janis ‘Imi’ike (played by “Moana” star Auli’i Cravalho) and Damian Hubbard (Jaquel Spivey, in his first movie role). It’s Janis who warns Cady about Regina’s double-crossing ways, and engineers a revenge plot in which Cady infiltrates the Plastics, befriending its beta members — insecure Gretchen Wieners (Bebe Wood) and not-too-bright Karen Shetty (Avantika) — and reporting back on what secrets she learns. The hitch in the plan comes when Cady starts to crush a hot boy, Aaron Samuels (Christopher Briney), and learns too late that Aaron is Regina’s ex.

The directing team of Samantha Jayne and Arturo Perez Jr. create some neon-bright musical sequences to push along Fey’s story. And Fey, who reprises her role as the no-nonsense teacher Ms. Norbury, brings along some of her regulars — Tim Meadows returning as the school’s principal, Busy Phillips as Regina’s trying-to-be-cool mom, Ashley Park as the school’s French teacher, and Jon Hamm as a boorish health teacher — for some undeniable laughs.

Besides Rapp, the standout among the young cast is Cravalho, who imbues the prickly Janis with a strong sense of outrage and vengeance over slights dating back to elementary school.

As good as some moments of this “Mean Girls” are, one wishes it didn’t stick too close to the original’s template in other areas — such as the iconic Christmas talent show scene, or the way Regina deploys the famous “Burn Book.” Even set to music, there’s not much happening in those passages that outshines the original.

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‘Mean Girls’

★★★

Opens Friday, January 12, in theaters everywhere. Rated PG-13 for sexual material, strong language and teen drinking. Running time: 112 minutes.

Review: 'Night Swim' is a less-than-exciting horror movie with actors delivering more than expected

Even with a couple of good actors in the lead — including a recent Oscar nominee — there’s not much to get excited about with “Night Swim,” the latest thriller from the powerhouse horror producers Jason Blum and James Wan.

The Waller family is house-hunting, and seems to find a good one: Roomy, nice neighborhood, and even a pool in the backyard. The dad, Ray (Wyatt Russell), tells his wife, Eve (Kerry Condon, an Academy Award nominee for “The Banshees of Inisherin”), that the pool could be therapeutic — as he deals with a degenerative muscular disease that has derailed his career as a third baseman for the Milwaukee Brewers.

The Waller kids like the idea. The younger one, Elliot (Gavin Warren) sees the pool as a place to bond with his dad, diving for quarters at the bottom. His teen sister, Izzy (Amélia Hoeferle), finds an opportunity to invite a hot boy, Ronin (Elijah Roberts), over for some after-hours water play.

It doesn’t take long, though, for the kids and Eve to notice something’s off about the pool, besides the flickering lights and the fact that the cat has gone missing. Thanks to the prologue director Bryce McGuire and his co-screenwriter Rod Blackhurst devise, the audience already knows what’s wrong — when, in the 1990s, a little girl (Ayazhan Dalabayeva) gets in the water and disappears.

McGuire tries to goose the audience periodically with the requisite jump scares, but ultimately there’s not much to “Night Swim” other than some mild shocks and a lot of references to other movies, such as “It” and “Psycho.” (The strangest homage may be to that well-known not-horror movie, “The Natural.”)

There are flashes, here and there, of where “Night Swim” might have mined richer veins of entertainment. There’s an early scene with a slightly off-kilter pool technician (played by “High Maintenance” creator Ben Sinclair) that promises weirdness that never materializes, and there’s a chilling moment between Condon’s Eve and the missing ‘90s girl’s mother (Jodi Long). The rest of the movie is too watered down, literally, to generate much suspense.

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‘Night Swim’

★★

Opens Friday, January 5, in theaters everywhere. Rated PG-13 for terror, some violent content and language. Running time: 98 minutes.

Review: 'Society of the Snow' is a harrowing, yet sensitive, telling of the 1972 Andes flight disaster that finds meaning in the details

With the true-life “Society of the Snow,” director J.A. Bayona starts with a harrowing tragedy that people think they know about — and digs deep into the human stories within it to find something that’s ultimately an examination of the soul.

On Oct. 13, 1972, a plane carrying 40 people — including members of a Uruguayan rugby team — and five crew members took off from Montevideo for Santiago, Chile. Traversing a narrow pass in the Andes, the plane crashed in the snowy mountains. According to the records, only 33 people survived the crash.

Bayona — whose track record with disasters includes “The Impossible” (2012), about the 2004 Phuket tsunami, and 2018’s “Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom” — deploys a special-effects crew that captures the chaos and violence of the initial plane crash with brutal clarity. The sequence stands as one of the most watch-through-your-fingers moments in recent movies, next to the race crash near the end of “Ferrari.”

Those who survive the crash, and the first night of freezing weather that killed another five, get organized in a hurry. They move the dead out of the fuselage, set up the wounded inside, and start scavenging through luggage to find any scraps of food available. That food lasts a couple of days, and then they have to start talking about alternatives.

This aspect of the story is the part people probably remember — either from hearing about it on a podcast, or maybe seeing Ethan Hawke and Vincent Spano re-creating the events in the 1993 movie “Alive.” The movie doesn’t shy away from the topic of cannibalism, but handles it with sensitivity, centering on the conversations among the survivors, about the necessity to survive against the legality and morality of eating their deceased compatriots. 

In the end, Bayona and his co-writers (Bernal Vilaplana, Jaime Marques and Nicolás Casariego) present the cannibalism issue as one element among many in the narrative. Those elements include desperate hikes in the snow to seek help, and philosophical conversations about the deeper meaning — if there is one — of enduring this ordeal.

The cast, largely unknown to American audiences, is a stellar ensemble. Among the standouts are Enzo Vogrincic as Numa, seen as one of the most respected of the rugby players; Matias Recalls as Roberto Canesa, a medical student who presents the cold logic of their odds of survival; and Agustin Pardella as Nando Parrado, who transforms from shell-shocked madman to perhaps the sanest person on the plane.

“Society of the Snow” captures the details of this survival story, finding tests of faith and friendship at each turn. It’s an object lesson for Hollywood, that true-life stories can actually be true to life, and pack an emotional punch without ridiculous amounts of embellishment. 

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‘Society of the Snow’

★★★1/2

Starts streaming Thursday, January 4, on Netflix. Rated R for violent/disturbing material and brief graphic nudity. Running time: 144 minutes; in Spanish, with subtitles.