Written by Andreas Babiolakis

Warning: The following review is of a film that is part of TIFF 2023 and may contain spoilers for The Zone of Interest. Reader discretion is advised.

Jonathan Glazer’s highly-anticipated film, The Zone of Interest, has finally reached North America and I can safely call this one of the finest features of 2023. In a filmic era stained by eccentricities, explosions, spectacles, and other distractions to guide you away from lazy writing, Glazer shows some of the strongest restraints of the twenty-first century in all of cinema. I will warn you from now that The Zone of Interest will likely not sit well with everybody and it is one of the more challenging releases of the year, but I cannot sing its praises enough. The only complaint I have is that only one image is available right now (the one you can see above) and that I cannot share how beautifully shot this film is at this moment. At the same time, I feel exceptionally fortunate to have seen such a monumental film early enough and to share my findings with what may be a perennial feature in the years to come.

While the film is loosely based on the novel of the same name by the late Martin Amis (who passed on the day of The Zone of Interest’s premiere at Cannes), throw these expectations out the window. What Glazer has here is a seedling of an idea from Amis’ novel about a love triangle during the Holocaust (Glazer’s film doesn’t even have such a romance in it whatsoever). Glazer focuses instead on the idea of the titular Zone of Interest: an area surrounding Auschwitz where commandant Rudolf Höss lives with his wife, family, and maids. So much of the film is just about their daily lives, but these tell enough of a story. The Zone of Interest never ever directly shows the violence and horror found within the camps towards the Jewish community or any other person, but you can hear it in almost any sequence. The desensitized ways of living are what will make you feel sick; every time Rudolf and his family are having fun in their yard you can hear screams and gunshots that will send shivers down your spine. This is a film about compliance and turning a blind eye. Part of the mystery is to show how this type of behaviour applies to any act of monstrosity and not just one historical event; this is what playing ignorant for selfish means looks like. This family lives a life of luxury as long as they ignore what is really going on (or encourage it). If you think The Zone of Interest endorses these monstrous people, you really aren’t listening to what Glazer and company are saying or showing.

The film forces you to be perceptive from the very beginning, as the title of the film lingers and washes out while Mica Levi’s obscured score full of ghastly chants drips into your soul. You’re left with a black screen while Levi’s music remains. I cannot stress enough just this opening alone how essential it is to see The Zone of Interest on the biggest screen possible: the entire cinema will feel pitch black as your soul leaves your body. If the overture isn’t enough reason, then the cinematography by Łukasz Żal must be (every single shot looks astonishing, and I do mean that). Finally, Paul Watts’ work here is some of the finest editing I have seen in many years; perhaps ever. With all of the static shots seen, Watts’ editing somehow adds fluidity to minimalism. Whenever a character enters or leaves a room, we cut precisely to where they are going. We get this omniscient gaze as a result: following characters in a whole new dimension. There’s nothing like the way The Zone of Interest moves, and you’ll know exactly what I mean once you see it. If any film has perfected the art of spatial awareness, it’s The Zone of Interest.

Countless moments will affect you, from a very Bergman fade into red (which reminds me greatly of Cries and Whispers) to some striking images (like the lighting of a cigarette while an Auschwitz chimney burns in the distance with both carrying the same hue of orange). I especially love the inverted sequences; you will know what I mean as soon as you see them. They feel vulnerable: as if everyone is watching these activities during the pitch-black void of midnight. The entire film is about the lengths people take to ignore the real horrors of society, and you will feel the uneasiness the entire time (I certainly hope so, anyway). We’ve seen the stories of the Holocaust time and time again, but not really this angle all that much: the guilt associated with those who pretend everything is okay in hopes that their privileges won’t ever change. There’s even a line brought up by Rudolf’s wife Hedwig in the film: this is what Adolf Hitler promised [them]. They cannot accept the sins of the world if it means their living conditions will now suffer, no matter what help is needed by those around them.

The final sequence is a bold one that turns The Zone of Interest into a piece of metaphysical history: it is a film with a consciousness of the present and the aftermath of what Rudolf and his actions will lead to alongside the ironies there (including, without heavily spoiling, the “gifts” from others that those living in the Zone of Interest previously accepted now being given their own focuses while locals have to tend to the departed). As soon as I was sure that the film was about to end and I didn’t want it to, Levi’s eerie music returned; their efforts mostly bookend the film to ease you in and out of this frightening film.

The Zone of Interest is a difficult watch but an essential one; it is perhaps the greatest film by a director who could already do no wrong. It may not be as flashy as many would like, but please do yourself a favour and watch a film that really isn’t that long (at an hour and forty minutes long) and be patient with the minimal, gradual, brooding filmmaking here. Listen to some of the strongest sound editing in years as you will hear many stories while looking at one image of luxury. Devote yourself to this film to understand its full potential because it is worth the time and the effort. The Zone of Interest is magnificent, albeit in a dreadful sort of way. If last year’s Tár was about noticing the red flags as they pop up, The Zone of Interest is about the avoidance of said red flags to lie to one’s self that life is beautiful (when it couldn’t be further from the truth). If you are actually watching the film and not multitasking as many of us do nowadays, The Zone of Interest may be the scariest film of the year with everything that you don’t see firsthand ensuring a wave of visions as to what exactly could be going on. Not since the documentary Shoah has a film told the story about the holocaust with what you don’t see.

The Zone of Interest is a distressing experience despite how exquisite it looks and feels, but that’s kind of the point: nothing during these kinds of times should ever be comfortable even if that’s the lie you’ve been sold. Let us never be so complacent that we ignore the miseries, agonies, and deaths of others, no matter how we are doing. Unfortunately, The Zone of Interest feels incredibly relevant, and it likely forever will. These kinds of monstrosities are impossible to ignore, and The Zone of Interest perfectly indicates this, especially with its wretch-filled finale. This is as unorthodox as such a film can ever be, but it is a necessary version that will provide a new viewpoint on history most of us already know. It is as powerful as a film can be, and I cannot sing its praises enough. There may not be a film better than The Zone of Interest this year (and, if there is, then 2023 will be one of the better years of film in quite some time).

Andreas Babiolakis has a Masters degree in Film and Photography Preservation and Collections Management from Toronto Metropolitan University, as well as a Bachelors degree in Cinema Studies from York University. His favourite times of year are the Criterion Collection flash sales and the annual Toronto International Film Festival.