Jojo Rabbit (2019)
dir. Taika Waititi
Rated: PG-13
image: ©2019 Fox Searchlight Pictures
Leave it to the comedic genius behind movies like What We Do in the Shadows and Thor: Ragnarok – to date, the wackiest (and funniest) departure from the Marvel Cinematic Universe’s “house style” – to give us a Wes Anderson movie with Adolf Hitler as a supporting character. Apologies if that’s a bit reductive, but it’s too perfect a comparison not to make. Taika Waititi has established his own style and aesthetic in movies like Boy and Hunt for the Wilderpeople, but in Jojo Rabbit, the Anderson comparisons are apt.
There’s more sharp-edged satire and a dramatic turn in Jojo Rabbit, but the picture is a spiritual sibling to Anderson’s delightful 2012 kid-centric Moonrise Kingdom. All that’s missing are a few break-neck speed whip pans and meticulously symmetrical shot compositions. There is also enough of Waititi’s sui generis off-kilter perspective to make his movie, without a doubt, his movie. Only Waititi would present Nazi rally footage as a Beatles concert – complete with shrieking girls and the Fab Four’s own German-lyrics version of I Want to Hold Your Hand on the soundtrack.
Jojo Rabbit is loosely adapted from the first half of a novel titled Caging Skies by New Zealand-Belgian author Christine Leunens. Set in 1944/1945 Germany, it tells the story of Johannes “Jojo” Betzler, a ten-year-old enthusiastic member of the Hitler youth. And I do mean enthusiastic. Jojo is so fervent that his imaginary friend is the Führer himself. Things get complicated for the mini-fascist when he discovers that his mother is hiding a teenage Jewish girl in the walls of their home.
In an inspired decision, Waititi cast himself in the role of Jojo’s imaginary friend version of Hitler. He takes the piss out of old Adolf with glee. Some of the comedian’s best lines are examples of Waititi’s unique – and in the case of Jojo Rabbit, hilariously anachronistic – use of vernacular. When attempting to pump Jojo up for his first day of Nazi Youth training camp, Hitler intones, “Oh yeah, man, you’re ready,” in a too-cool-for-school delivery.
And Waititi spreads plenty of the wealth around to his ensemble. At one point, Jojo’s mother, who is alarmed at her son’s all-consuming love for fascism, tries to convince Jojo that he’s not actually a Nazi. He assures her that he is. “I’m massively into swastikas, so I think that’s a pretty good sign right there,” he tells her.
The entire cast is up to the challenge of Waititi’s clever and subversive writing. Scarlett Johansson gives one of her most nuanced performances to date as Jojo’s put-upon mother, Rosie. Johansson consistently hits multiple emotional notes at the same time throughout the movie. She is dealing with a son who has gone down the wrong path, while hiding a secret from the boy about his father – and herself – that would devastate him.
Sam Rockwell, Rebel Wilson, and Alfie Allen all add to the absurdity as various Nazi functionaries of the Hitler Youth camp. Wilson is funny as Fräulein Rahm, doing her regular Rebel Wilson schtick, but with a ridiculous, over-the-top German accent. Rockwell and Allen are similarly goofy as Captain Klenzendorf and Finkel, Klenzendorf’s second-in-command, respectively. There is a barely hidden secret between the two – you’d have to be deliberately obtuse not to see it within their first few scenes – that give later plot points much more emotional impact.
It’s the performances from the two kids – OK, one kid, and one young adult – that stand out, even among the rest of the very good cast. Twelve-year-old newcomer Roman Griffin Davis crafts a sensitive, quirky character in Jojo. His sweet, expressive face is both funny and sad, perfect for the character and the movie. His relationship with Elsa, the young Jewish girl that Rosie is protecting, forms the emotional and dramatic core of Jojo Rabbit, and it’s a marvelously realized one.
Nineteen-year-old Thomasin McKenzie, who was a revelation for me in 2018’s Leave No Trace, is fantastic as Elsa. McKenzie plays Elsa with a tough, imbittered edge that gives the character real strength. Just like Shosanna/Emmanuelle in Quentin Tarantino’s Inglourious Basterds, Elsa is a departure from the popularized Hollywood representation of the fragile, scared (usually female) Jews-in-hiding during World War II, most notably the fictionalized versions of real-life Holocaust victim Anne Frank. Elsa, like Shosanna/Emmanuelle, gives these victims a strong, active (instead of passive) voice in their own story.
While the comedy of Jojo Rabbit is aimed squarely in the right direction, never once punching down, it did hinder the more dramatic turns from impacting me as intended. I would not begrudge anyone the experience of being deeply moved at the arc that Jojo and Elsa, his very unwelcome houseguest, experience during the film. But for me, the absurdist comedy kept me at an emotional remove from what the movie was doing dramatically. In this case, I am ready to fault myself for this lack of connection, not Jojo Rabbit.
There have been outcries condemning Waititi for daring to use Nazis as comedic fodder. As is always the case, though, context is key. Just as Mel Brooks did half-a-century ago with The Producers – another film to which Jojo Rabbit is spiritually indebted – Waititi delights in mocking and satirizing the Nazi movement as buffoonish. It’s a tactic that makes the absurdity of a belief in a Herrenvolk truly absurd. It robs the ideology of its power.
And that’s something we desperately need right now.
Although, Nazis are admittedly an easy and acceptable target. It’s the main reason the satire doesn’t land with as much impact as it might. While they are very different films, it’s instructive to compare Spike Lee’s 2018 film BlaKkKlansman and Jojo Rabbit. There is an immediacy to BlacKkKlansman that is missing from Waititi’s film. The inspired and visceral dénouement of BlacKkKlansman had me openly weeping in the theater. That is an outcome Jojo Rabbit could have achieved, but because of its historical remove, I didn’t have anywhere near as strong of an emotional response.
To be fair, though, the last 60 seconds of Jojo Rabbit are the sweetest and most hopeful you’re likely to see on screen this year. I walked out of the theater with a smile on my face, which would probably make Taika Waititi very happy.
Why it got 3.5 stars:
- This one is totally on me. I wasn’t as moved as I felt the movie wanted me to be, or as I felt I should be, to be honest. I think the satire sapped some of the pathos out of it. At the same time, since the movie focuses on the World War II era, that satire isn’t as biting as it could have been, considering Waititi is making a statement about our current political situation. It’s a very funny, clever movie, though.
Things I forgot to mention in my review, because, well, I'm the Forgetful Film Critic:
- The movie closes with a quote by poet Ranier Marie Rilke.: “Let everything happen to you/Beauty and terror/Just keep going/No feeling is final.” It’s a beautiful sentiment, and it fits nicely with the themes of Jojo Rabbit.
- A Stephen Merchant cameo is always a welcome thing.
- Jojo’s best friend, Yorki, is played by 11-year-old (10 at the time of filming) Archie Yates. He is adorable. Right up there in Baby Yoda territory.
Close encounters with people in movie theaters:
- There were only eight or so of us at this screening. Most everyone found the movie as funny as I did.