La zone d'intérêt

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.

Glazers movie is loosely based on Martin Amis' novel The Zone Of Interest, extracting just one aspect out of it, the so-called normal life of the Höss family, living next to Auschwitz Concentration Camp, which was under Höss' command. Their life is being shown in an almost documentary style, in absolutely realistic reconstruction of the historical setting. Everything about their home is so bluntly normal, average and pseudo idyllic that it would be even boring, if we weren't be aware of the concentration camp hell just behind the wall around their garden.

What we don't see we're getting to hear on the background sound. While garden parties are being celebrated and children play at the pool side, we hear the barking of dogs, brutal shouting, the shooting, the permanent sound of industrial murder, as a constant reminder of the atrocities the family doesn't ever seem to notice.

The banality of evil is based on ignoring the murderous Nazi reality all around.

What we get to see sometimes are smoking chimneys and the smoke of incoming trains in the distance, transporting more victims to the gas chambers.

The erasing horror is a result of Glazers concept of refusing any empathy and subjective involvement to the viewer, with disturbing effect, because we, unlike the Nazi family, are unable to suppress the obvious.

For some this might be an unbearable patience test, for others it might raise the question of how much we're suppressing and ignoring nowadays to be able to continue our average daily life.

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.

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 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.