lanzmann’s “sobibor, 14 october 1943, 4 p.m.”

in its deliberate omission from the elegiac shoah, lanzmann sets this story apart as one of uncommon resistance. in separating this film from that narrative, a different kind of film is being made. where shoah is a somber film about a shameful, genocidal downward spiral, it’s easy to see that sobibor, 14 october 1943, 4 p.m is detached from that narrative because it’s so rousing and elating. giving the arc of shoah ample room to consider so many eyewitnesses, survivors and perpetrators allows it to take on the quality of being an important and lasting text on the holocaust. lanzmann is an exhaustive interviewer whose brusqueness sometimes feels irreverent, however, his care in compiling these personal accounts proves his commitment to his film as a living testament to the nadir of human depravity and the remarkable endurance faith allows. accepting all of this, it can still be noted that this haunting artistic triumph can be attributed to the filmmakers’ lively direction and editing. while deeply affecting and serious-minded, lanzmann’s film is also self-consciously epic. its narrative is therefore curiously (and purposefully) revised in a way meant to resemble the inexorable march toward the pit of humanity. along the way, the director’s probing questions expose still extant and latent anti-semitism among the poles living in homes forcibly seized from jews, which is interspersed with translated interviews from survivors that border on ritualistic in their exactness. the effect of this juxtaposition creates the feeling of being witness to a monument – that is to say, unlike an attempt to make a sprawling grasp at the totality of jewish life under the third reich, shoah ambles along a straight path to an inevitable conclusion. the subject matter imbues weight but ultimately, the structure determines trajectory, which is where sobibor, et al, comes in.

lanzmann’s sobibor, 14 october 1943, 4 p.m. is a tremendous film with one glaring, maddening authorial decision that alters the character and trajectory of a truly exciting story. unfit for the solemnity of shoah, this film is mostly an extended interview with yehuda lerner, a soviet jew who survived a remarkable 8 escapes from nazi captivity before being sent to sobibor. once again, we have a film so totally carried by the charisma of its lead protagonist, in this case, a bonafide israeli national hero that led the only successful uprising at a nazi concentration camp. lerner is a captivating presence that recalls a golden age hollywood star rather than a war hero, he’s suave, easygoing and well coiffed. he remembers his own story as an intersection of incredible fortune and foolish bravery and recounts it animatedly. lerner’s story of resistance is so absolutely remarkable that he can still scarcely believe the details. it’s a story that’s so compelling that it needs no adornment whatsoever other than lerner’s own lively gesticulating.

and yet, where lanzmann gets himself into trouble is that his ponderous cinematic techniques bungle lerner’s storytelling. nevermind the opening sequences where we are reintroduced to lanzmann’s trains, mausoleums and placards by way of extended static shots; the mournful treatment of the subject matter reconnects us to the aesthetic of shoah. in that film, the languages are so multivarious that the use of subtitles and a translator contributes to this aesthetic of a pan-european suffering under the third reich. by using translation (read: repetition), lanzmann approaches something ritualistic and lyrical – that repetition is texturing.  the subjects speak for themselves in yiddish, czech, polish, etc. and the translator speaks for them to us, in french and english subtitles. much in the same way that the train motif provides the narrative impetus for shoah, the stylized presentation of recapitulating stories provides the character of the film. in sobibor, it’s senseless.

sobibor is a film with one subject and one interview. the profusion of tongues was well suited to the many different accounts of the previous film, but here, it’s a dire misstep. there is no reason whatsoever that lerner’s testimony needed to be translated from czech to french, then subtitled in english in real time. about halfway through the interview, you sense the subjects obvious restlessness – not only in the sense that the translation is exhausting but also that lerner is so eager to tell his story. instead of keeping us in the story and letting the interviewee guide the film (which he is more than capable of doing), lanzmann makes the puzzling decision not to omit the interaction with the french translator. even for a french audience, this defies sense because there is no scenario in which a serious filmgoer would object to subtitles. even at 92 minutes, this seems to unnecessarily pad the film and stampedes a legitimately exciting story.

of course, the question to ask is whether or not lanzmann intended this frustration, to liken it to his decision to create sobibor as a companion film is to make the assumption that as a serious filmmaker, he wants to deny a certain kind of engagement from the audience. that is to say, is lanzmann trying to frame lerner’s story in the most boring possible way to lend gravitas? it seems pretty clear that the pacing of the film is a conscious decision which would make it at least plausible that the director means for the audience to ruminate on the larger context rather than experience the story in a sensationalistic way. in that case, why present the story outside of the context of shoah? it’s difficult to deny how thrilling lerner’s story is, yet here we are, watching an incongruously dull film that is trying its damndest to turn an exceptionally stimulating story into a Boring Old Person story. to that, i can only say: in no way does an anomalous story of resistance against persecution belittle the unfathomable suffering of the victims of the holocaust.

two stars for a great star, a unique perspective and completely baffling execution.