Remember when it used to mean something to call somebody a "Nazi"?
It was the ultimate insult, to be compared with the world's most heinous
genocidal murderers. But the word has been tossed around so often and used
inappropriately that it's no longer a big deal. When it comes to their
portrayal in the movies, have we reached a point when Nazis are just window
dressing? In
The Book Thief, based on the book club favorite novel by
Marcus Zusak, the horrors of the holocaust are cast aside in favor of a
distinctly Spielbergian coming-of-age tale that is too simple to properly
depict the ugliness of the period, the reality of which are too complicated
for the target audience.

And that complication begins right from the beginning in the sly, dangerous
tone of the narrator, none other than Death (
Game of Thrones' Roger
Allam) himself, as he waxes poetic about human frailty and mortality. Adults
will understand the significance, and even why it makes some measure of sense,
to have Death chattering about how busy he was in 1938 war-torn Germany, but
this is a film told from a child's perspective and geared for a child audience.
What Death was actually up to during Hitler's reign of terror, is mostly glossed
over in the name of heartwarming family entertainment.
That's not to say there aren't moments of real poignancy to be found in the
bittersweet life of Liesel (Sophie Nelisse), who we meet as her young brother
dies of disease, just before her mother drops her off with new foster parents
in a fictional German town. Hans (Geoffrey Rush) is a jovial, mostly unemployed
painter with an indomitable positivity in the face of such obvious hardship.
His spirit harkens back to Roberto Benigni's character in
Life is Beautiful, a man always looking to shield others from the
pain of their lives. His wife Rosa (the greatly undervalued Emily Watson) is
made of sterner stuff. Harsh on the outside and the inside, she at first seems
less concerned with Liesel's fate (or her husband's for that matter) than the
money they'll get for adopting her. When Liesel arrives alone, she's upset that
the other child died because it means less of a stipend.

Liesel is drawn to Hans, however, and the old man begins to teach the
illiterate girl about the wonders of books, freeing her mind to a world outside
the city's borders. Their ramshackle basement becomes a place of learning,
where she can write all of the new words she's learned on a chalkboard. The
film finds its sweet spot by reveling in the transformative power of books and
words, perhaps because it doesn't require much in the way of definition. The
broadest of possible strokes are used to depict the great and small tragedies
of the holocaust. The oppressed townsfolk are forced to bear Nazi flags with
false pride lest they face violent retribution; the children walk around in
Hitler Youth garb, totally unaware of what any of it means. A book burning in
the middle of streets must be attended by all, and leads to Liesel stealing one
of her first books from the smoldering ashes.

Reality creeps through their door in the form of Max Vandenburg (
Ben
Schnetzer), the son of a man who once saved Hans' life, and the family
risks all to hide the escaped Jew in their home. Again, the danger of this
decision is woefully underplayed, although there are some strong moments shared
between Max and Liesel. He teaches her to look beyond the evil and find
goodness in books, at one point literally painting over a copy of Hitler's
Mein Kampf and telling Liesel to write
something more hopeful. Sure, it's sappy and the feel-good moment quickly
passes, but the film actually is better off when being clear about its modest
emotional intentions. Scenes of Jews being herded away to a concentration camp;
Nazis shoving innocent citizens; or of people hiding in air raid shelters
aren't explored with enough depth to be anything more than bullet points to be
checked off. And yet, director Brian Percival and screenwriter Michael Petroni
expect us to believe the toll the war has had on all involved when we never
really see them experience it in a meaningful way.

Fortunately, veteran actors Rush and Watson hit on something true in their
portrayals of Hans and Rosa, two people who couldn't be more different in how
they cope with unending hardship. Their sweet 'n salty chemistry balances
perfectly in the quieter moments, and you see that despite their differences
these people were always meant to be together. Nelisse, who is practically in
every scene and carries much of the dramatic weight, holds her own opposite her
experienced co-stars. In fact, she's good enough that it would have been nice
to see what she could do if
The Book Thief treated its subject with the heft
it deserves.