‘Jojo Rabbit’ – offensive or brilliant?

JORDAN MOSHE

Such is the case in the recently released Jojo Rabbit, a comedy about a Nazi boy who has Hitler for an imaginary friend. Winner of the Best Adapted Screenplay at the Oscars this week, the film has amused, angered, and baffled critics and viewers alike. It presents a blend of humour and pathos, and one either loves or hates it.

Can we laugh at Hitler and the terror of the Third Reich? Does satire enable us to mock Nazism, deflating it through comedy, or is there no room for such levity where such a delicate topic is concerned?

Nazis and the absurdity of their ideology have long been the target of satire and comedy, both from within Germany itself and beyond. Prior to their rise to power, Nazi leaders were often lampooned by more left-wing critics, voices which were tragically silenced when Hitler assumed full control of Germany. American humourists, too, frequently poked fun at Nazism, allaying public fears by inspiring laughter and mocking Nazi pomposity.

Hollywood illustrates a number of well-known cinematic examples. Both during and after World War II, films like Charlie Chaplin’s The Great Dictator and Mel Brooks’ The Producers sought to bring Hitler down a few pegs by poking fun at Nazism, and satirising its inherent absurdities.

Jojo Rabbit seems a case in point. Released in American cinemas in October last year, the comedy is directed by and stars Taika Waititi (who plays Hitler). The plot follows the experiences of a young German boy, Johannes “Jojo” Betzler whose imaginary friend, Hitler, helps him navigate maturity and life in Nazi Germany. Striving to be the model Nazi youth, he discovers that his mother (played by Scarlett Johansson) is not only a member of the local resistance, but is concealing a Jewish girl in their home. Jojo and the girl develop a close relationship, resulting in him eventually freeing himself from Nazi dogma, and giving Hitler the boot (literally).

While some have lauded the film’s coupling of satire with more emotive elements, others have derided it for historical ignorance and buffoonery, claiming it fails to address properly the realities of Nazi rule.

Esquire’s New York City-area film critic, Nick Schager, finds it a “misstep of colossal proportions, a project so fundamentally misguided and terribly realised that it’s difficult to fathom its existence in the first place”.

Similarly, Rich Brownstein, a lecturer at Yad Vashem’s International School for Holocaust Studies, brands the film a “newest cupcake of Holocaust films”, little more than a “puerile attempt at comedy and the essence of overt Holocaust commercialisation”.

He wrote recently in the Jerusalem Post, “Jojo Rabbit is a sloppy confection […] slathered over Jewish suffering. It epitomises the danger of letting any yahoo whip up a Holocaust soufflé.”

Like others, Brownstein finds Waititi’s claim to Jewish ancestry spurious grounds for the creation of the film. Although Waititi’s father is from a Maori tribe, his maternal grandfather is of Russian Jewish heritage. Waititi has also used his mother’s surname, “Cohen”, for some of his work in film and writing, and describes himself as a “Polynesian Jew”.

On the other hand, a number of voices have spoken out in support of the eccentric film. According to American media outlet Insider, Mel Brooks, the master of satire and director of The Producers, praised Jojo Rabbit as “really a terrific, eloquent, and beautiful picture” at the American Film Institute Awards earlier this year.

“If you stand on a soapbox and trade rhetoric with a dictator, you never win,” Brooks reportedly said. “But if you ridicule them, bring them down with laughter, they can’t win. You show how crazy they are.”

Abraham Foxman, national director emeritus of the Anti-Defamation League and a Holocaust survivor, reportedly agrees with Brooks, saying, “Prejudice is so irrational that reason doesn’t necessarily work. We need to find more creative, imaginative ways to deal with it.”

“The film is a satire, but the ‘reality’ is a mother is risking her life and her child’s life by protecting and hiding a Jewish child. We don’t just go into fairyland. Satire is risky, but reasonable and rational doesn’t change bigots. For those who are inclined to follow bigotry, maybe satire can expose the ridiculousness of what it’s all about.”

Steven Luckert, senior programme curator at the Levine Institute for Holocaust Education at the United States Holocaust Memorial Museum, says that while it might be argued that humour is a poor vehicle to address the Nazi past, comedies have proven to be effective in creating empathy and raising important social and political issues. However, they might need to be paired with more aggressive means.

“When Chaplin made The Great Dictator, he addressed the Nazi persecution of Germany’s Jews directly at a time when Hollywood balked at even mentioning the Jews as a specific target of Nazi wrath,” Luckert said. “Chaplin called for a democratic world, free from hate and intolerance; he understood, however, that it would take more than comedy to destroy Nazi Germany.”

Indeed, Waititi himself has dubbed his film an “anti-hate” satire, calling it “a story of tolerance and understanding set in a time that lacked both” in his Oscars acceptance speech this week.

“I hope in making this film we can remind ourselves that it’s still possible to connect with each other even under the most chaotic of circumstances – no matter what age, religion, race, or gender,” he said.

Luckert points out that Jojo Rabbit poignantly addresses the issue of tolerance, but through the unlikely eyes of an indoctrinated German boy. “The audience empathises with him when he tries to fit in, and later when he frees himself from anti-Semitism,” he says. “Like The Great Dictator, the film takes risks. During the first fifteen minutes of the movie, I, like other members of the audience, felt a bit awkward. Should I laugh, or would this be offensive?”

However, he stresses that the film, while lampooning Nazi racial ideology or idiocy, never pokes fun at the victims.

“Through comedy and a captivating story, Jojo Rabbit helps us understand the mass adulation that Adolf Hitler received during the Third Reich, the power of peer pressure, and the difficulty of overcoming deeply embedded prejudice and fear. Laughing at the Nazis can be fun and liberating, and, at the same time, tackle important issues.