The horror of the Holocaust has been cinematically depicted more times than the horror of Freddy, Jason, and sharks combined. How can a film possibly stand out in an emotionally challenging area that also feels overcrowded? Son of Saul finds a way.
The plot is appropriately rough: Saul, a Hungarian man forced to help the Nazis exterminate fellow Jews, finds his dead son after a gas shower session. This puts Saul on a personal mission to sneak the body out for a proper burial, all the while aiding the other workers’ plan for an all-or-nothing uprising. So yeah, this is misery on the level of Schindler’s List, but it’s how director László Nemes tells this story that makes Son of Saul an incredible piece of work.
Shot in 4:3, the boxed-in visuals already give the film an eerie sense of confinement. Even more unsettling, though, are the relentless use of close-up and point-of-view shots all centred on Saul, which make up 99% of the film.
This places the majority of the familiarly-seen horror in the background, cruelly forcing the viewer to mentally piece the scenario together. The unfocused sight of the burning pits; the distant coughs and screams from the gas chambers; it all gives the impression that this is routine for Saul. Which it is, and that makes it all the more horrifying. Over time, the unchanging numbness and exhaustion on his face becomes too clear.
Despite how profoundly depressing this all sounds, there is hope in this tale. It’s very fleeting. It’s a bit frustrating. And it’s the only time Saul changes his facial expression.
