The Reader

"Every single day -- 365 days a year -- an attack against children occurs that is 10 times greater than the death toll from the World Trade Center...We know how to prevent these deaths -- we have the biological knowledge and tools to stop this public health travesty, but we're not yet doing it." Jean-Pierre Habicht, professor of epidemiology and nutritional sciences at Cornell.

Eight million of the eleven million childhood deaths a year could easily be prevented. That's because almost 60 percent of deaths of children under 5 in the developing world are due to malnutrition and its interactive effects on preventable diseases. Is this not a holocaust?

An old Soviet piece of gossip had it that Comrade Khruschev was interrupted during his famous 'secret' speech before the Communist Party elite when he denounced Stalin's crimes in 1956, three years after Stalin's death. A voice from the audience shouted, "Why didn't you speak out against these crimes when Comrade Stalin was committing them?" Khruschev looked up from his speech and asked loudly, "Who said that?" A long silence ensued after which Khruschev observed, "That is why."

When you see "The Reader", ask yourself why you are doing nothing about the holocaust which is happening every year to the poorest children of the world. Is it because you are afraid to be seen as being 'silly' or too 'socialist' or 'soft hearted' or because the system demands that you pay attention to the important things of life like obeying your bosses and keeping order and besides, "What can a lowly person like myself do about the situation" and you're too busy speculating on what the real estate market will be doing in the coming months and finding a pair of jeans at Jeans West which will fit.....

Michael meets Hanna when he is fifteen. Unbeknownst to Michael, he is coming down with scarlet fever. He is throwing up in an alley on a very rainy day when Hanna, the tram conductor, stops to offer him a warm place to rest until he feels better. Hanna also cleans up his vomit from the pavement. Hanna believes in orderliness and cleanliness. This penchant for order is apparent from the beginning of their relationship and these traits lead her to offer Michael baths and to bathe herself as well and as the movie progresses the motherly Hanna and her son-like friend begin to explore the attractions which flow from such erotic circumstances.

Both Hanna and Michael are full of hidden passions. Michael could have been a Heydrich in Prague, had he been born 15 years earlier. He is clearly 'officer material'. Hanna, on the other hand, is a working class woman born 30 years earlier into a society which would tell women that their highest aspirations could be fulfilled by staying in the kitchen with the children when they weren't engaged in taking in a church service. with the family. Education was unnecessary. Both Hanna and Michael are intelligent and attractive. Both are turned on by the doors which are opened to them by great literature. Both are also social products of their own German culture, with its various and sundry facets of puritanical, psychological repression, including a kind of reserve which leads to the peculiarly German goodness of keeping one's mouth shut in public about things political, things which the authorities have well in hand. Hanna's fear of exposing her own illiteracy and Michael's fear of public condemnation as a young law student at speaking up for Hanna in a court of law are the stuff of tragedy.

Sound familiar?

Even after many steamy sexual encounters, Hanna is shocked by passages in D.H. Lawrence's LADY CHATTERLY'S LOVER, telling Michael that it is the equivalent of smut and that he should stop reading from it, almost as his mother would have. But clearly, Michael is not attracted to Hanna because she is a mother replica--Oedipus, no. One has only to compare and contrast Michael's screen mother with Kate Winslett's Hanna to know that.

However, it is 'klip und klar' that Hanna loves Michael and he loves her but, unbeknownst to them both when they are together, their love runs very, very deeply. They might believe that they will get over their summertime romance as time goes by, but the reality is that such love does not die, no matter what happens: there are no conditions for it.

There are elements of Fassbinder's "Ali, Fear Eats the Heart" and "Berlin Alexanderplatz" in "The Reader". "Sophie's Choice" also comes to mind. See this movie and be prepared to cry for humanity because as Thoreau observed, ""Most men lead lives of quiet desperation and go to the grave with the song still in them." Methnks this is especially so in cultures as deeply built on the authoritarian personality character structure as the German one is.

Post-WWII Germany: Nearly a decade after his affair with an older woman came to a mysterious end, law student Michael Berg (Ralph Fiennes) re-encounters his former lover (Kate Winslet) as she defends herself in a war-crime trial.

The film raises the question of whether we should judge someone by the law or rather "the laws of the time". And there is a big difference. Of course we know that killing is morally wrong, and those who sent people to death in World War II were morally in the wrong, even if they were only following orders.

But were they legally wrong? One could argue not. That is a difficult topic. Like the women of this film, those at the Nuremberg Trial were tried and convicted under laws invented after the war. Laws written by the winners. This makes one wonder: is it right to put someone on trial for something morally wrong, even if it was not legally wrong? And who should decide the laws? Had the Axis won, they could have just as easily declared it illegal to drop atomic bombs on innocent villages and then try, convict and execute Harry Truman.

Right and wrong is no easy topic.

Before I start reviewing, let me say something personal: As a German, one can hardly watch movies about the Holocaust, WWII or any related topic unbiased. As I have discovered myself, no German family is without a history related to the Third Reich, almost none are without grave guilt, or at least the fear thereof, and most who say otherwise either lie knowingly, or simply try to evade further inquiry.

Reading some of the other reviews, I realized that for me, the movie conveyed something slightly, but decisively different: It is not so much about understanding HOW people could ever do the things they did, but rather how it is possible, that people we love, and people that have been loved by people we love could be so guilty and so loving, so despicable and lovable at the same time. It is about how we expect the guilt to show up somehow, how we expect to know the killer, the monster, at first sight and say: how could anyone not have seen it? Yet we have to admit sooner or later, that we were wrong, or were we? The question really is: How could I have ever loved someone who did things as horrible and disgusting as Hannah did? And just as much: If I am unmerciful now, having learned of their guilt, is it because they did what they did, or because they disappointed my own belief in their innocence?

At one point, Hanna Schmitz asks the judge: "What would you have done?", and I think that therein lies an even more disturbing and unsettling question: What would I have done? What would you have done? How can anyone know for sure what WE would done? It is too easy to think of oneself as morally sound, with a firm belief in what is right and wrong. It's what Germans call the "mercy of late birth" - the luxury of not having been in the position to make that choice.

So, what made this movie worth giving the full 10 points out of 10? It is well-crafted, well-played, believable, at times even beautiful. It captures both the fascination Michael feels with Hannah, and his disbelief, even disgust while exploring the ugly truth about her past. It conveys the struggle between our compassion and the reluctance to show mercy against the ones who did not. It leaves the viewer with the same, disturbing questions that have not been answered sufficiently in the past 60 years (nor will they ever be). It does not provide simple answers, but rather raises more questions, left to be unanswered. As Lena Olin's Character says: "If you want Catharsis, go to the theater!"

Other than providing beautiful, well-toned cinematography, a well-written script, love of detail and convincing performances even by the supporting cast - what more can you expect from a truly great movie?

We don't know. We think we do but we don't. We make decisions or sometimes decisions are made for us but we think we've made them. Then suddenly, there we are. We can't be certain how we got there or where we will be when everything settles but we do know that we are alive. Some experiences are life altering and we can run from them or embrace them. Staying to see them through though can bring incredible bliss but also tormented turmoil. We just never know. One such experience was had by a young Michael Berg (David Kross) and is chronicled in Stephen Daldry's THE READER. How could he know that when he pulled into an alley to be sick that he would meet the woman who would shape his entire life? How could he know that getting close to her would pull him the furthest he's ever been from himself?

Of course, when you're a sixteen-year-old boy and a woman who looks like Kate Winslet disrobes in front of you in the privacy of her bathroom, how much thought really goes into the decision that has presented itself? However little it is, it is certainly less than is warranted. This is especially true in West Germany of 1958. This is a Germany that is uncertain how to proceed, how to be its new self in the eyes of the world and the eyes of its very own future generations. Winslet plays Hanna Schmitz, a compassionate woman but also abrasive and stern. Winslet strikes the perfect balance between directness and desire in Schmitz, making her complexities part of her appeal. She is a good fifteen years older than the young Berg and she knows much better than he of her country's history. What he knows, he has read in books, been taught in school. What she knows, she lived first hand. So when the two come together, naked in each other's arms, the meeting is as redemptive as it is passionate. Berg is just happy to be in love and having sex but Schmitz is washing herself clean with the youthful vigor of Germany's tomorrow.

The summer ends and so does the affair, as one would expect. Just when it would seem that the two would never meet again, life steps in to ensure that past decisions, perhaps made in haste, can come to see their consequences. Berg has grown some and is a college man, studying to be a lawyer, when he catches sight of Hanna Schmitz again. Their latest chance encounter is far less exciting though as he sees her on a class outing to a courthouse. Schmitz is on trial for crimes against humanity for her time as an officer in the Nazi party during the Second World War. Berg's memory of his first love would now become a question of his own morality. How could he love someone who was now accused of such atrocities? How could he be so intimate with someone he apparently never truly knew? And yet, now that he knows her past, does he really know how her past came to be? After all, what is the face of evil? Is it Hanna Schmitz or is it something incredibly bigger than her?

Ralph Fiennes is the future of Germany. He plays Berg as an adult. His life is orderly, very clean, crisp and cold. He made decisions that made him the man he is and he can never say whether they were the right ones or not. What he can see is that we all make decisions that either hurt or harm other people and that the atrocities committed by his past generations are not as far outside the realm of understanding as he might have originally thought. More importantly, redemption is not that far either.

Directed by Stephen Daldry and written by David Hare, "The Reader" is a thought-provoking and surprising drama that takes the viewer in several different directions. Though some reviewers on this site are critical of Daldry and the film, in lesser hands, "The Reader" would be a total, erratic mess.

The story is told in flashback as the adult Michael Berg (Ralph Fiennes) remembers his youth. As a 15-year-old boy, the young Michael (David Kross) has his first forays into sex with an older woman, Hanna Schmitz (Kate Winslet) in 1958 Berlin. She helps him when he winds up on her doorstep, ill with scarlet fever; he returns to thank her when he's well. The two enter into a sexual relationship. As part of their time together, Hanna has Michael read to her. One day, Hanna simply disappears. The next time Michael sees her is in 1966, when he is a law student in Heidelberg and his class travels to watch a trial. It is then he realizes not one secret that Hanna carried with her, but two.

"The Reader" is, above all, a very human story of real, conflicted human beings, and the brilliant performances reflect this. David Kross is exceptional as the young Michael, in the throes of first, blinding passion, who, in the face of the truth about the woman he loved, endeavors to understand her nonetheless. Kate Winslet is magnificent, and that's the only word for her. Hardened by life and her unsentimental and uncompromising view of the world, she is cut off from people due to a secret she considers shameful. With Michael she allows herself some softness, and gives in to not only passion but emotion, sobbing when Michael reads a sad story to her. Winslet shows us all of this, her need to connect with someone, and her strict view of life. Ralph Fiennes turns in another excellent performance; Michael's world and his own isolation were shaped by Hanna. As an adult, he still grapples with a decision he made and his own guilt; he still tries to understand not only her but how he could love her, and in the midst of all of these complex emotions, he believes he owes her something. He ends up giving her the greatest gift he could - her dignity.

As with "Dead Man Walking," there is more to a person than his or her actions, reprehensible though they may be. We are not, after all, what we do but who we are. While some crimes are unforgivable, there is, shockingly, at times a connection with the perpetrator that allows us to see the person and extend a consideration that person never gave another. Thus murderers have loving parents and family, and someone who showed inhumanity to others has a little humanity shown them.

A very remarkable story.