As with films such as Life is Beautiful and The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, it’s always fascinating to delve into the horrors of war from a child’s innocent eyes, witnessing such undignified brutality from a naïve, blissfully ignorant perspective. Succinctly highlighting the futility of it all, Brian Percival’s The Book Thief feels suitably watered down, pinpointing death and destruction without feeling torturous. However what transpires is a disengaging, emotionally detached title, as a film that truly struggles to move you, despite the magnitude and poignancy of the themes explored.
Based on Markus Zusak’s bestselling novel, our entry point is the young Liesel (Sophie Nélisse), who is separated from her communist mother and taken in by a German couple, Hans (Geoffrey Rush) and Rosa (Emily Watson) – the former a benevolent, affable man, the latter not quite so much. Soon this seemingly placid environment becomes a theatre of conflict, as Nazi Germany is engulfed in the Second World War. In the meantime, Liesel becomes enamoured by Max (Ben Schnetzer) – a young Jew who Hans and Rosa are bravely sheltering in their basement, and to distract her from his withering predicament, she finds solace in the written word, as alongside her close friend Rudy (Nico Liersch), she gets into the habit of stealing literature to share with her family and their fugitive guest.
The Book Thief – though based on an immensely affecting piece of literature – is frustratingly cliched and melodramatic. The John Williams score is inevitably a bonus, while the costumes and overall sense of the era depicted is impressive to say the least – however the picture is let down by its distinct conventionality. At times the film proceeds into unbearably mawkish and overtly sentimental territory, growing increasingly unsubtle as we approach the grand finale. Percival seems to have completely disregarded the notion that sometimes less is more, and if you take films such as Life is Beautiful, for instance, it’s that very subtlety that makes for such an emotionally driven piece.
Nonetheless, it’s intriguing to delve into the home life, and grow attached to a German family during WW2. So often in cinema we watch events unravel through the Jews or the British and American soldiers’ perspective, and yet in this instance we find empathy for the German nationals caught up in proceedings, reminding us that not everybody was a Nazi. That’s not to say Hans and Rosa are angels, mind you, as they remain flawed and humanised creations. Rush turns in a fine performance too, providing the picture with that joviality and sincerity it so desires to counteract the tragic elements of the narrative. Watson should be commended also, as although initially she is rather easy to dislike, she does a fine job breaking through that facade and showing off a vulnerable, kind-hearted side to her demeanour.
Nélisse – who shone in her breakthrough role in the Oscar nominated drama Monsieur Lazhar – carries the film well as our focal character and entry point. However issues do remain with her ageing process, as we progress roughly six years across the course of the movie, taking Liesel from 10 to 16 years of age – a time period where the human body goes through so many psychical changes. Given Nélisse is used throughout, it’s somewhat difficult to fully believe in her evolvement, proving to be a challenging aspect of the book for Percival to overcome.
Such gripes aside, there is plenty to be admired about this title, though the fact the film is narrated by Death himself (Roger Allam), it makes for a rather morbid set of affairs. However it’s not a sentiment handled delicately enough, as regrettably this poignant and profound story, does not feel very poignant nor profound at all.
[Rating:2/5]
