I've seen this film twice. The first time it was such a shocking,
horrifying spectacle I vowed to never see it again. It is absolutely
among the most graphic, violent films ever made, save slasher/horror films. I saw it again to see what was buried
underneath the gore. It was surprising. As a historical document
alone The Grey Zone is unique and impressive. Countless small
details contribute to its originality: the blue-green color of the
Zyklon B crystals, the sprinklers constantly working the lawn
beside the crematoria, the clear, pretty daylight when the trains
arrive, the intimate building-to-building geography of Birkenau --
only the film Shoah manages to make these small historical
details count so much. What's left to be said about the Holocaust?
These things. Small things. Details. The grass, the sound ovens
make, sunlight hitting brick. Shoes. Luggage.
The Grey Zone is so unique that it has been misinterpreted. There
is virtually no music, nothing to tell you how to feel. It is exactly the
opposite of melodrama. The mundane repetition of the killings
actually numbs you after awhile, and this is intentional since this is
how the main characters are affected. There is no uplifting
message, and no cliched Zionist coda like Schindler's List
suggesting that all the suffering had a destination and a design.
There are some awkward elements in the film. But these are
minor next to the clarity of purpose and originality. The Grey Zone
should not become marginalized in the canon of Holocaust art
because it refuses to be sentimental. Hopefully it will be
referenced and reviewed for a long time.
horrifying spectacle I vowed to never see it again. It is absolutely
among the most graphic, violent films ever made, save slasher/horror films. I saw it again to see what was buried
underneath the gore. It was surprising. As a historical document
alone The Grey Zone is unique and impressive. Countless small
details contribute to its originality: the blue-green color of the
Zyklon B crystals, the sprinklers constantly working the lawn
beside the crematoria, the clear, pretty daylight when the trains
arrive, the intimate building-to-building geography of Birkenau --
only the film Shoah manages to make these small historical
details count so much. What's left to be said about the Holocaust?
These things. Small things. Details. The grass, the sound ovens
make, sunlight hitting brick. Shoes. Luggage.
The Grey Zone is so unique that it has been misinterpreted. There
is virtually no music, nothing to tell you how to feel. It is exactly the
opposite of melodrama. The mundane repetition of the killings
actually numbs you after awhile, and this is intentional since this is
how the main characters are affected. There is no uplifting
message, and no cliched Zionist coda like Schindler's List
suggesting that all the suffering had a destination and a design.
There are some awkward elements in the film. But these are
minor next to the clarity of purpose and originality. The Grey Zone
should not become marginalized in the canon of Holocaust art
because it refuses to be sentimental. Hopefully it will be
referenced and reviewed for a long time.