Holocaust and the Moving Image: representations in film and television since 1933
TOBY HAGGITH and JOANNA NEWMAN (EDS) 2005
London, Wallflower Press
pp. xxiii + 317, filmography, bibliography and index £16.99 (pbk) ISBN 1-904764-51-7 

Toby Haggith launched this book with words to the effect that no one can produce work on this topic without being overwhelmed by a desire to deliver their very best in order to pay due respect to the people involved and their memories. This book illustrates in great detail, and through a great breadth of examples, how this is true not only for authors but also for many filmmakers of every genre and generation.

Holocaust and the Moving Image presents a record of a symposium hosted by the Imperial War Museum, London in 2001. It consists primarily of essays that were presented at the symposium and also features eight additional chapters that were written retrospectively to shed further light on particular topics. The result is a rich, varied and unflinching look at how the Holocaust and the genocide in Rwanda have been handled by film and television producers over the past sixty years, focusing on a variety of questions  – what defines a documentary, should reconstructions of life within concentration camps ever be used, is film actually evidence in its own right? 

As David Cesarani comments in his preface, this book should be viewed as a toolkit by which films and television programmes about Holocaust can be viewed, considered and understood in context. It does not claim to have all the answers for how to view films and programmes about Holocaust, but it does raise the questions that are required for one to begin to understand and study it effectively.    

The structure is based around five themes as they were discussed at the symposium; film as witness, propaganda, documentary in film and television, feature films and the legacy of the Holocaust and other genocides. It covers an enormous territory of film making and its real strength lies in the fact that it has brought together people from all sides. It compares and contrasts the views of academics, producers, directors, archivists, animators, museum curators, lawyers, teachers and importantly survivors. As a result there are overlapping and intertwining themes that are examined from a range of perspectives, which provides a much rounder view than a purely academic approach would have done.

Toby Haggith’s and Kay Gladstone’s chapters bring into focus the background behind archive film, revealing the pressures and constraints that affected cameramen and producers filming the liberation of the camps. Raye Farr’s considered reflections on Claude Lanzmann’s Shoah (1985) combine both personal knowledge of the director and an appreciation of direction to deliver real insight and analysis of an immensely challenging film. Laurence Rees, Michael Darlow and Peter Morley all reveal how documentary makers focus on one element to represent a larger story. Darlow makes a particularly telling comment when he explains that the average content of an hour long documentary is equivalent to a 6,000word essay. He does not present it as an excuse, but rather as a fact that enables people to judge documentaries within the limitations of the format.

The focus is largely on European films and experiences which provides a welcome contrast to the debates of Hollywood blockbusters that have more recently dominated the topic. As a result there is a greater reflection on the conflicts and questions that exist in these societies because of their closer involvement and proximity to the reality of the death camps. By looking at German, Polish, Czech, French and Italian films the sheer vastness of the Holocaust and the communities it affected is eloquently presented.

A brief glance at the filmography reveals the range of films discussed and brings into the public gaze many that have been forgotten or lost over time, some that have been censored and others that are only accessible through archives. It is unlikely that any reader will have seen or even heard of all of the films discussed and dramatically extends the filmography that students should be considering. The fact that these films are now being brought to the fore is valuable because it emphasises how skewed the world’s vision has become by major feature films. Life is Beautiful (1998), Schindler’s List (1993), The Pianist (2002), Hotel Rwanda (2004) present a view of the Holocaust and the genocide in Rwanda, but they are all tales of survival with relatively happy endings. Alerting new audiences to the presence of much smaller and frequently more difficult films cannot be a bad thing.

There is a conflict inherent in making programmes, films or museum exhibitions about Holocaust because it brings it within the scope of entertainment. This is tackled directly by moving it into the realm of education and the drive to ensure that future generations are accurately and sensitively informed. The chapters by Suzanne Bardgett, Annie Dodds and Ian Wall bring into perspective the conflicts and questions that are necessarily thrown up by this process. Anna Reading contributes an intriguing chapter on the views of young people in the UK, US and Poland which should surely be pursued further. While Rex Bloomstein’s provocative title to his chapter “Human Rights: Does Anyone Care?” forces the issue into the present day and questions the responsibility of broadcasters and governments to expose and act upon evidence of atrocity. 

A key chapter is The Survivor’s Right to Reply, where unusually survivors are able to offer their comments about the films that have been produced to remember their families and their experiences. However, as the debate centres around the validity of Roberto Benigni’s Life is Beautiful (1998) it becomes abundantly clear that there is no widespread agreement between survivors on many of these films. From the prisoners at Terezín to survivors of Auschwitz or Sobibor, survivors’ individual experiences are so different that their reactions to the films are different too. Quite simply there are no easy answers that can take in the enormity of the Holocaust, but it is the challenge of film makers to try and deliver a level of understanding without diluting or simplifying the facts.

In essence Holocaust and the Moving Image asks the reader to question what they are viewing and to study it within a broader historical context and to bear the considerations of film makers in mind. This excellent collection of essays reveals much that is usually left behind the scenes and the camera. The wealth of debate and opinion expressed here makes an ideal starting point for anyone studying this topic in the future.

HANNAH CAVEN, Twofour Productions, London