What makes film a particularly powerful medium for “working through” Germany’s difficult 20th-century past? What filmic techniques are used in these two films for representing historical traumas, and why?

Combining together audio and visual worlds, films are a compelling way of opening audiences up to narrative experiences beyond their own. For this reason, traumatic events within Germany’s 20-century past have been brought into the spotlight of the movie screen time and time again.  This recalling of the past assists in refreshing cultural memory, allowing audiences to process the open wounds still apparent across the fabrics of society. This research paper analyses the way two films are able to represent historical traumas allowing them work through Germany’s difficult past and paving a way forward. Go for Zucker is a defiance against the narrow representation of Jews in prior works of cinema, and does this through its playful subversion of Jewish stereotypes. Rosenstrasse celebrates a brief moment of glory and victory within a particularly bleak period of German history but uses it to demonstrate the devastating effects the Holocaust had on groups of individuals.

Rosenstrasse

On a surface level, Rosenstrasse appears to depict an idealistic German-Jewish relationship and views the period of National Socialism through rose-tinted glasses. This has led to the sentiment that Rosenstrasse misrepresents life under National Socialism, limiting its ability to work through historical trauma. Stuart Taberner asserts that the film engenders a “mythologisation of a ‘special’ German-Jewish ‘intimacy’” (Taberner 365) and goes so far as to labelling it a “Nineteenth-century illusion” (Taberner 365). He asserts that the film fails to acknowledge the “infinitely number of ‘ordinary’ Germans in the minutiae of mass murder” (Taberner 366). I believe this is a valid concern as obfuscating the events surrounding the Holocaust could inadvertently hurt the way in which the community is able to effectively process the trauma. However, I posit that Rosenstrasse is keenly aware of this and makes a strong statement about the fundamental impossibility of accurately portraying the holocaust, as well as those that were affected by it. 

Rosenstrasse’s depiction of the holocaust may not be completely consistent, but the film alludes to the realities of Holocaust through that which is not shown. The film is told mainly through the eyes of Lena and Hannah, with Ruth’s viewpoint having been sidelined. She repeatedly rejects her daughter’s inquiries into her past, and is cold and apathetic in the sparse scenes featuring her. Compared to Lena’s retelling of the war, Ruth’s flashback sequences are also sporadic, cutting away from the present moment and ending just as suddenly. By the end of the film, we are left with lingering questions regarding her life and it is through this that we are implicated in what Cormican describes as “narratives of normalization” (Cormican 451). Like Hannah, we insatiably crave reconciliation and to weave events into our history, but this is ultimately done at the expense of the victims. Through the omission of details (and what we are left with), the film spurs viewers to think beyond what is shown on the screen and question the ethics of our ceaseless quest to depict the holocaust. 

Cormican writes that “Jews might have experienced the same places and times in fundamentally different ways than non-Jews.” (Cormican 451). Lena and Hannah have been able to process their uncomfortable experiences allowing for reconciliation and recovery. Having witnessed the atrocities of the holocaust firsthand, Ruth however has lost the ability of establishing a continuous narrative linking the past and present. As Hannah returns from her trip to Germany, believing to have understood her mother’s troubled past, she presents her with the ring given to her by Lena. The ring’s significance lies in the fact that it belonged to Ruth’s mother, and represents the bond that the two shared. Ruth however, rejects the ring, telling Hannah to keep it instead, symbolically approving her marriage. Ruth’s slightly concerned expression which she quickly masks is, I believe, a reflection of her lost faith in ever seeing her mother and a rejection that her “dreams could come true”. In the final moments in the movie, Hannah and her fiancé embrace warmly and celebrate their marriage. Ruth leans in, conferring her blessings, but as she steps back, her smile fades slightly and she jerks her head to compose herself. The message is clear: whilst Hannah has been able to gain a sense of closure regarding her family’s past, Ruth has not been granted the same privilege. Rosenstrasse is hence able to bring nuance to the holocaust and allows audiences to understand the unique pain of Jews who had physically experienced it against those that did not, and other Germans who were unknowingly caught up with its ramifications.

Allez Auf Zucker

The relegation of Jews within German Cinema to the roles of victims, a reaction to the years of National Socialism, inevitably overlooks centuries of varied portrayals of Jews within media and theatre. Allez Auf Zucker, I argue, is effective in widening a German audience’s perception of Jews and Jewish culture: referencing the past and looking optimistically to a future where Jewish and German identities can share a cultural common ground. Through themes of reunification and rebuilding bonds, the film gives much needed insight into various Jewish practices and customs. Unlike the wave of philo-Semitism that has hit the German movie scene from the late 20th-century onwards, Allez Auf Zucker is also able to succeed in addressing the division between Jewish groups caused by the installation of the Berlin Wall. 

Because Jews only make up a small portion of the German population, there is a higher likelihood for Germans to experience Jewish culture through the silver screen (Smith 232).

The film works to subvert stereotypes and there is a deliberate scrambling of characteristics traditionally associated with particular groups of Jews. Allen writes that what brings the characters together is “not the erasure of difference altogether, but rather an acceptance of cultural difference” (Allan 31) and a commitment to a “shared set of ethical values” (Allan 31). Samuel, a West German Jew, is Orthodox and old-fashioned, traits which typically characterise those living in the GDR. Jackie, a staunch supporter of the socialist GDR regime, appears selfish and materialistic spending a majority of the movie chasing money at the expense of his family. Filmic details also clue audiences of the labels placed on each character, allowing them to view them in relation to the traits which seemingly clash with them. The interior decor of Jackie’s apartment is noticeably drab, with light fixtures and wooden cabinetry noting his fixation on the GDR. When Samuel is introduced, his distinct fashion choices work in tandem with the noticeably eastern music to accentuate his Orthodox background. Labels are hence broken down, a reflection of the fall of the Berlin Wall and the flux in cultures it ensued.

Most of the comedy and humour derives from “Spiel”, or a sense of acting and play. There is a juxtaposition between the roles the characters are forced to play against their actual personas, and the resulting dissonance contributes to a large part of the film’s humour. The two brothers are forced to resolve their 40 year long feud and act in a cordial fashion to one another. Jaeckie is repeatedly forced to mask his illicit behaviour in order to abide by the rules of his mother’s contract. His wife, a gentile, is caught up with his affairs and consequently has to play up her “Jewishness”. Smith writes that, “The humour of these films derives its punch from the ability of both the audience and the other characters to see through the act.” (Smith 235). The cartoony and comedic scenes use Jewishness as a stage for cultural connection between German and Jewish audiences alike. This laughing with, not at, Jewish culture, inspires comfort within Jews through seeing their identity being expanded upon and revitalised to a German audience. Self-deprecation humour has been common throughout Jewish history and often a reflection of the group’s security and acceptance during that period (Smith 240). Its use within the film, I believe, is a nod to years of Jewish expressionism, and a freeing of Jewish cultural representation from the shackles of victimhood.  

At the same time, the film makes a conscious effort not to overshadow the traumatic events which took place. Through subtle references, the period of national socialism can be framed as relevant and its impact still felt within the fabrics of society today. The implicit messaging hints at the actual history behind the film’s setting and allows it to remain within the cultural memory of a country. It serves as a strong statement of solidarity with its victims and a reminder of the boundaries that shall not be crossed

Conclusion

To work through historical trauma implies the creation of new positive linkages between a culture and its society it exists in. Movies such as Rosenstrasse and Allez Auf Zucker, act as catalysts for this by shifting public perception and facilitating a nursing of cultural memory. Rosenstrasse is a tale of multiple lives and an unapologetic critique of society’s fixation of the holocaust. Allez Auf Zucker combats narratives of victimhood and is a refreshing retaking of a Jewish cultural identity whilst at no means ignoring the events of the past. 

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Works Cited

Allan, Seán. ““Seit der Wende hat der Mann nur Pech gehabt. Jetzt soll er auch noch Jude sein”: Theatricality, Memory and Identity in Dani Levy’s Alles auf Zucker! (2004).” Debatte: Journal of Contemporary Central and Eastern Europe, vol. Volume 15, no. 1, 2007, pp. 25-42, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/09651560701241412.

Cormican, Muriel. “The Demands of Holocaust Representation: Formal Considerations in Margarethe von Trotta’s “Rosenstraße.”” jstor, The German Quarterly, https://www.jstor.org/stable/24756523?seq=1. Accessed 1 10 2014.

Smith, Jill Suzanne. “REVIVING GERMAN-JEWISH COMEDY: DANI LEVY’S FAMILY FARCE GO FOR ZUCKER!” Journal of Modern Jewish Studies, vol. Volume 13, no. 2, 2014, pp. 231-248, https://www.tandfonline.com/doi/full/10.1080/14725886.2014.918716.

Taberner, Stuart. “Philo-Semitism in Recent German Film: Aimée und Jaguar, Rosenstraße and Das Wunder Von Bern.” German life & letters., vol. Vol.58(3), 2005, pp. 357-372, https://onlinelibrary-wiley-com.virtual.anu.edu.au/doi/full/10.1111/j.0016-8777.2005.00325.x.