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This incandescent film portrays the idyllic life that the family of Nazi commandant Rudolf Hoss enjoyed in a sumptuous house right next to the concentration camp in Auschwitz right in the middle of the Holocaust. There is very little soundtrack and it all unfolds at a deliberate pace that is in keeping with Jonathan Glazer's slow-burn, disquieting style. A rigorous sense of order and calm is prevalent throughout.

We never actually see any of the Holocaust taking place even though it's right next door. The barbarism and butchery are only apparent from the screams in the distance or from fires at night or smoke during the daytime. The pristine, lush surroundings of this family bely the mass extermination that is taking place in the immediate vicinity. It's a masterful work in which conveys horrible events by leaving them to the imagination.

A repeat viewing might be helpful as subtitles in this film are sometimes rapid-fire. But overall, this is an extraordinary and memorable film from start to finish. Recommended to everyone, without exception.

This film was definitely different than I expected. Yes, it's a little slow. But you have to go into the screening not waiting for something big to happen. The whole point of the film is to show us that while all the horrific events of the Holocaust were happening and Jews were being murdered just for existing, there were plenty of folks that lived like everything was normal.

The fact the the Hoss family didn't even register the screams, cries, gunshots, dogs barking and massive amounts of fire and smoke shooting into the air right next door, just shows how self involved, entitled & oblivious they were. Thank goodness for Grandma who realized things were not right even after wondering aloud if her ex employer was "over there."

The most telling bit of action that I thought was genius was the dog, Dilla. The household is calmly going about their days. Servants are stoically doing their jobs, kids are playing and Mom is busy revelling in how great she has it. There's a bit of unrest in the house because of a disturbed sleep-walking daughter and a baby girl that obviously knows this world is f-ed up and is crying nonstop hoping Mom will let her go back into the good place.

But Dilla! She is trying to get anyone's attention! She is running, scratching on doors, whining and barking in every shot. Obviously she is the only one who REALLY hears what's going on next door and knows there are very bad people there. She can hear the cries and screams. Why won't anyone pay attention to her and listen to what she has to say? Somebody pay attention to the dog! Listen to Dilla! She's trying to tell you something and she's the only one that sees the truth.

The medium of 'Cinema' is widely recognized as a means of visual storytelling, where a series of moving images move the narrative forward, with background sound playing a secondary role. However, there are instances where the audio takes control of the sequences and defies conventionality.

Jonathan Glazer's "The Zone of Interest" serves as a prime example of this phenomenon. The director skilfully employs a variety of sounds, such as the constant arrivals of trains, gunshots, and the burning of chimneys, creating an atmosphere that is undeniably terrifying.

Whilst there are a few noteworthy cinematographic elements, including effective use of juxtaposition, it is the background score and sound design that bear the brunt of the storytelling.

For those interested in watching this film in the comfort of their homes, I would personally recommend finding the quietest possible environment, utilizing proper sound systems or headphones (preferably noise-canceling ones), and try to watch the entire thing in one sitting, without interruptions.

Trust me, this approach will significantly enhance your perception of the film.

However, it is important to note that the film heavily relies on visual as well as auditory 'insinuations,' such as suggestive sounds and framings, to convey its message. As a result, individuals who are might be unfamiliar with historical events, particularly those lacking knowledge of "The Holocaust," may struggle to grasp these subtleties.

In essence, it is not a readily accessible feature for all viewers out there. Bear that in mind.

There's a house that looks and feels like any other, with a mother and her children who are brothers - and there's a wall around this plot, the other side people are not, and they will not get the chance, to rediscover. As the father is the commandant of death, responsible for taking their last breath, though he lives without a care, just like his wife who loves it there, and it's clear they're very proud, of their success. After all, you have to have a certain mind, to exterminate a race of humankind, and then live a normal life, without guilt, or strain, or strife, in a house, with a big wall, to hide behind.

This is one of the most unsettling films I've seen in a very long time. Rudolf Hoess was the Kommandant of Auschwitz, and oversaw the murder of around three million people.

At the same time, he was a devoted family man, who lived with his wife and children in a large house just outside the camp. The camp itself is hinted at but not seen. Instead, we see Hoess taking his children on picnics, boating trips and horse rides. His wife and her mother talk about how wonderful the garden is, oblivious to the sound of gun-shots and columns of smoke rising from the crematoria just beyond the garden wall.

Christian Friedel's Hoess is nothing like Ralph Feinnes' Amon Goeth in Schindler's List. The latter radiated sadistic evil; the former is terrifyingly normal. He sees the running of a concentration camp as a job and nothing more; a series of practical problems to be overcome through hard work and organisation. The Hoess children seem terrifyingly well-adjusted as well. The worst that can be said of any of them is that one boy can be mean to his younger brother.

There's no real plot. The only significant events are Hoess' wife becoming upset because her husband's transfer might lead to her losing her idyllic house and "idyllic" lifestyle; and Hoess' later re-appointment to Auschwitz. Thanks to that nice Mr Google, I can reveal that these events took place in November '43 and May '44. The film ends shortly afterwards. We see nothing of Hoess' trial or execution. Just a family man with an odd haircut.

It's easy - all too easy, probably - to regard Hoess and his ilk as one-dimensional villains; evil in the way that Bond villains are evil, or Darth Vader is evil. Nothing to do with us at all. The Hoess we see here IS like us. He can oversee the deaths of thousands of people during the day (and off-screen), then come home to read bed-time stories.

Nor are Hoess and his ilk firmly in the past. For all I know there are Israeli politicians and leaders of Hamas who think nothing of bombing their perceived enemies, yet who love their children and are loved in return.

Towards the end of the film there's a scene shot in the Auschwitz of today - but even here expectations are defied. We see the early-morning cleaning shift arrive before it's opened to visitors. It's a place of horror, but there's still a need to sweep the floors and clean the windows. Why? It's a very human contradiction.

The message of the film is simple but profound - and also terrifying. We're ordinary people, but so was Hoess, at least on one level. That thing we call civilisation is a wafer-thin veneer. If we don't look after it, we'll lose it.