Jojo Rabbit

A story about a ten year old boy in Nazi Germany sounds like one of those made-for-school dramas from the 1980s, but Taika Waititi—the New Zealand director with the vivid imagination and quirky humour—has come up with a sharp satire about Naziism which is unexpectedly tender and ultimately powerful and moving.

Sneaking this in behind the trope of Hitler as an imaginary friend undersells the premise and promises some sort of broad comedy along the lines of Mel Brooks movies or—at a push—’Allo ’Allo. But this isn’t either of those. The boy Jojo (Roman Griffin Davis) is weak, but in the Hitler Youth he finds that those around him will accept him if he joins in with their ideological hatred of anything that’s not Aryan. This sounds like it’s toeing some sort of tasteless lines but the anti-Semitic slurs on Judaism stick to the laughably preposterous and steer clear of the material that’s regrettably become topical again. Taika Waititi himself plays Adolph: he’s out in the forest when Jojo is unable to kill a rabbit (which is why he is taunted as “Jojo Rabbit”)—and gets disfigured. He lives with his mother Rosie (Scarlett Johansson); his father is gone. Volunteering for the Nazis, Jojo feels like his horizons are expanding but the comedy archetypes like Captain Kenzendorf (Sam Rockwell) and Fräulein Rahm (Rebel Wilson) give him what he presumably takes for friendship until he discovers that his mother is harbouring a young Jewish woman, Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie) in a secret part of the house. 

This setup makes for an incredible dynamic. Jojo can open up to Adolph about Elsa but he doesn’t tell any of his Nazi associated. He does tell his friend Yorki (Archie Yates), who is also into Naziism. Jojo’s anti-Jewish tropes are soon called out by Elsa who correctly diagnoses him as being someone who enjoys the camaraderie, but who is not really a bad person. The story will develop to properly explore the difference between people who’re committed for the wrong reasons to evil, or committed for the right reasons to humanity. And kudos to the movie for doing this with such incredible subtlety. Kudos too for managing the relationship between a 17 year old girl and a 10 year old boy, complete with the awkwardness on one side and the wisdom on the other. Thomasin McKenzie’s performance is full of pent up fear and bitterness which is broken only when she is able to be friendly to this kid who, on paper, is expecting her to be carried off and murdered (as the rest of her family were).

This is an engaging and brilliant film about the complexities of racism and it’s incredibly moving as a result. A character can be caring and offer friendship and maybe opportunities, but it’s not really friendship, it’s conditioning and controlling. But there’s a point at the very end of this film where that particular idea is again subverted and the film reaches its most subtly brilliant sadness—the end of the film.

Everything about this film is a correct decision. The tone of the writing is modern, and the German versions of postwar hits from The Beatles and David Bowie make it clear that this isn’t entirely a period piece. The acting is superb—it may be the best Scarlett Johansson performance, which is an achievement because she doesn’t ever put a foot wrong. Taika Waititi manages to make Adolph preposterous but also useful to Jojo, and when you see the film you wonder why the idea of someone playing Hitler for comedy might not work. Stephen Merchant turns up as an SS man in a routine that mixes sitcom ridiculousness with war movie tension. Jojo Rabbit is funny and sad in ways that can only be understood if you go and see it. Maybe it doesn’t demand a big screen, but it is solid and brilliant.