Jojo Rabbit skillfully takes you on a heartbreaking yet humorous journey into the sharp realisation that everything you thought was true is, in fact, a lie. As we follow Jojo, childhood innocence slowly morphs into questioning youth as Jojo’s eyes open to the realities of Hitler’s world, a world built on lies, manipulation, mass murder and hate. Jojo Rabbit is screening at BFI London Film Festival.
Lampooning fascism and Nazi ideology can be a tightrope walk for any director, with the balance of humour and horror, a maze of potential pitfalls. However, director Taika Waititi navigates this challenge skillfully, layering his film’s humour with cutting social commentary. Waititi takes square aim at the indoctrination of young people within a classic coming-of-age narrative that also dissects the dark power of fascism and social control.
It would be all too easy and far too lazy to label Jojo Rabbit as a dark comedy. Like The Death of Stalin, this film delves much deeper, exploring innocence in the face of hate and oppression, parental protection, the need for a sense of belonging and purpose in youth, and the masks people wear for self-protection.
Set during the dying days of Hitler’s Third Reich, young Jojo (Roman Griffin Davies) is fully committed to the Nazi ideology he has been taught from a young age. However, Jojo’s understanding of war, fascism and hate is clouded by childhood logic and his inability to see through the mists of propaganda surrounding him. His hero worship of Hitler is born from an image that doesn’t really exist, an image Hitler and his regime have carefully crafted to appeal to younger generations. To Jojo, Hitler is strength, security and hope, a god-like figure who is invulnerable and untouchable. So, with his excitement for all things Third Reich overflowing, Jojo attends the local Hitler Youth summer camp, where he is determined to show the other boys his passion and strength.
The camp’s chaotic and mindless activities are managed by the frustrated and medically retired Captain Klenzendorf (Sam Rockwell) and his band of extremists, including Fräulein Rahm (Rebel Wilson) and Finkel (Alfie Allen). All three toe the Nazi Party line while hiding their insecurities and secrets, wearing masks to protect the identities they keep hidden. Here, Taika Waititi beautifully explores how complicity is often formed through fear and self-protection in states that demand allegiance by suppressing freedom.
All is going well for Jojo and his imaginary friend, a child-like version of Hitler (played by Taika Waititi), who guides Jojo through the trials and tribulations of the camp. However, it’s not long before the older boys instruct Jojo to kill a rabbit, which he simply can’t do, and suddenly, his weekend takes a nasty turn, leading to a new nickname, ‘Jojo Rabbit’. Desperate to make up for his failure, Jojo throws himself (quite literally) into grenade practice, but that doesn’t end well either! – his dreams of fighting for the Reich over in a heartbeat as he returns home bruised, maimed and battered.
Meanwhile, at home, Jojo’s mother, Rosie (Scarlett Johansson), silently and dutifully does her best to protect her son from the real horrors of war and her secretive battle against fascism under the cloak of night. However, her most deadly secret resides in the loft, which, if discovered, could have devastating consequences for them both: a hidden Jewish girl named Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie).
Based on the book “Caging Skies” by Christine Leunens, humour and emotion flow through Taika Waititi’s film as we follow Jojo, his mother, and Elsa. While wrapped in exquisite humour, Jojo Rabbit never shies away from reflecting the horrors of the Third Reich by embracing a similar balance to TV shows like Blackadder Goes Forth and Mash or movies such as Dr Strangelove.
Just like its smart, sharp and satirical screenplay and direction, the performances at the heart of Jojo Rabbit are outstanding and nuanced, with Roman Griffin Davis, Scarlett Johansson, and Thomasin McKenzie putting their hearts and souls into their roles, embracing the humour, heart and abject darkness of the journey Jojo, Rosie and Elsa take through the rubble of fascism. Equally impressive is the fantastic contemporary score that surrounds them, a score that cleverly couples modern songs that embody freedom and expression with a fantastical 1930s orchestral score.
Jojo Rabbit skillfully takes you on a heartbreaking yet humorous journey into the sharp realisation that everything you thought was true is, in fact, a lie. As we follow Jojo, childhood innocence slowly morphs into questioning youth as Jojo’s eyes open to the realities of Hitler’s world, a world built on lies, manipulation, mass murder and hate.
Follow Us