A family of German Jews are separated from their pet by Nuremburg laws in this honest, unsentimental film
In 1930s Germany, the thoroughly assimilated Jewish Schoenmann family welcome the arrival of a litter of puppies when Anya, their pedigree German shepherd, gives birth in their sun-splashed flat. Although young Joshua (August Maturo) and his sister Rachel (Viktoria Stefanovszky) plead with them to keep the lot, mother Shoshonna (Ayelet Zurer) and father Ralph (Ken Duken) insist that only one puppy can be kept; the rest must be rehomed. The lucky pup who stays, a male named Kaleb, forms an intense bond with young master Jacob.
Naturally, these opening 10 minutes or so foreshadow the tragedies to come. Soon the Nazis bring in the Nuremburg race laws and the family have their rights and safety eroded bit by bit, including the right to own pets. Jacob and Kaleb are separated, but God, ever the mysterious way-worker and crafter of movie-logic ironies, ensures that they are eventually reunited in a concentration camp. By this point Kaleb is being cared for by a Nazi guard (Miklos Kapacsy, packing a disturbingly attractive Ralph-Fiennes-in-Schindler’s-List-style smoulder) and Jacob is a starving prisoner.
Based on an Israeli novel by Asher Kravitz but produced by a US-based company with American director Lynn Roth and shot mostly in Hungary with a largely east European cast, this is a fittingly diasporic production for the subject matter. There’s a palpable sense that the package is designed for multigenerational viewing, using the cute puppies to lure in the kids before delivering an honest but palatable history lesson about the Holocaust. As such, it succeeds in walking the tonal high beam without falling into soul-destroying bleakness on one side or a saccharinely fake happy ending on the other. That’s no mean feat.
Based on an Israeli novel by Asher Kravitz but produced by a US-based company with American director Lynn Roth and shot mostly in Hungary with a largely east European cast, this is a fittingly diasporic production for the subject matter. There’s a palpable sense that the package is designed for multigenerational viewing, using the cute puppies to lure in the kids before delivering an honest but palatable history lesson about the Holocaust. As such, it succeeds in walking the tonal high beam without falling into soul-destroying bleakness on one side or a saccharinely fake happy ending on the other. That’s no mean feat.
