Ok, I think we can all agree that there’s nothing particularly funny about a Nazi. However, while the very idea of laughing with them makes me nauseous, they are rather fun to laugh at, if for no other reason than pure therapy.
In a world full of hatred, sometimes all you can do to get through the day is look it square in its big, dumb face and laugh. You should try it some time, it’s really quite satisfying, and, quite frankly, there are very few filmmakers out there better suited to conducting such a defiant chorus of anti-hate jollity than Taika Waititi.
With WWII stumbling to its end and the Nazis facing certain defeat, young Jojo (Roman Griffin Davis) cuts a lonely figure as he recovers from wounds sustained at a Nazi youth camp. With his time alone fuelling misguided prejudices, Jojo’s life is turned upside down when he discovers his mother (Scarlet Johansson) has been hiding a Jewish girl, Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie), in the attic. Followed closely by his imaginary friend Adolf Hitler (Taika Waititi), Jojo must overcome his blind nationalism and put an end to the hatred that has consumed him.
Unconventional yet universal, Taika Waititi’s utterly unique sense of humour probably isn’t for everyone, however, for those, like myself, that jive with it, it feels like there are few situations the director can’t squeeze humour from. From the mockumentary horror of What We Do in the Shadows to the odd couple adventure of Hunt for the Wilderpeople to the balls-out cosmic insanity of Thor: Ragnarok, he has tried his comedy hand at pretty much everything, yet Nazis represent brave new territory, even for a filmmaker as fearless as Waititi.
Quirky and off-kilter without losing sight of its heart, Waititi’s writing and direction nimbly weave in and out of any genre he tackles, however, he seems to have found a comedy home in satire. Sure, Jojo Rabbit’s satirical leanings may not be as astute as a Chris Morris or an Armando Iannucci, yet there’s a simple, undeniable charm to Waititi’s style that’s hard to resist, producing the kind of comedy that’s as timely and poignant as it is uncomfortable.
Idiosyncratic yet never grating, Jojo Rabbit takes a subject that feels nigh on impossible to milk humour from and develops it into something quite special. Make no mistake, this is an incredibly difficult subject to approach from a comedy angle, yet Waititi gets things just right, creating a film that’s never a comfortable ride, yet lands with the kind of warm humour and unexpected poignancy that has been a consistent trait of the filmmaker’s career.
In the grand satire tradition, Jojo Rabbit takes on a subject that many will baulk at and spins it into comedy gold, as WWII Germany is squeezed for every last drop of humour, while ensuring that the sensitive subject matter is dealt with as delicately as possible. Taking his newfound satirical responsibilities seriously, Waititi challenges the viewer throughout, as he addresses a subject that, by its very nature, is likely to ruffle a few feathers, culminating in something wholly uncomfortable, yet ultimately satisfying.
In lesser hands, Jojo Rabbit would leave itself wide open to exploitation accusations, yet, while the mix of quirky, irreverent humour and the very real atrocities of Nazi Germany will leave many an eyebrow raised, with Taika Waititi in charge, the story never loses its grounding. Regardless of how flippant things get, Waititi never fails to bring the heart, as Jojo Rabbit marks the director’s most intimate and affecting writing to date.
The story itself is undoubtedly sentimental and often overly simplistic in its approach to the complex, multifaceted nature of prejudice, intolerance, and propaganda, yet this is entirely the point. As we see the horrors of war playout through the eyes of a ten-year-old and we witness his misguided bigotry slowly whittled away, there’s a childlike sweetness and a naivety that’s hard to resist.
This child’s-eye view of the worst aspects of humanity is successful largely due to its simplicities, as Waititi shows us just how someone so young would perceive a world set up to take advantage of his inherent gullibility. Heart-breaking and heart-warming, this approach may reduce Nazi evils down to a rather fundamental level, yet the result is no less powerful, as it exposes the utter folly of war and hatred.
With his patented brand of jovial, idiosyncratic humour, Waititi successfully treads a fine line between slapstick irreverence and genuine poignancy. Stuffed with smart little sight gags and cleverly constructed, off-kilter dialogue, the script often bounces around like a hyperactive child, yet always knows when to slow down and take stock of the true horror surrounding the comedy.
Simple but effective, Waititi’s writing takes the enormity of WWII and boils it down to one child’s experiences within it. After the early slapstick antics of Jojo and Yorki at the world’s most poorly run Hitler Youth camp, things gradually evolve to become a surprisingly low-key blend of comedy and drama, as Elsa enters Jojo’s life and we see their relationship bloom.
From this point on, the film slows in pace as it shifts back and forth between the farcical antics of the war outside Jojo’s home and the intimate journey of discovery within it. The plot itself is certainly modest, but one stacked with a shed-load of charm, warmth, and a gripping natural drama.
With an ensemble as good as anything he’s ever gathered before, Waititi makes ample use of the various talents at his disposal, as the likes of Sam Rockwell (operating at peak-Rockwell), Stephen Merchant, and Taika himself bring their comedy A-game, while Scarlet Johansson offers one of her finest performances to date in a role of delicately balanced humour and pathos. Yet, unperturbed by the A-list talent around them, the film’s younger cast members undoubtedly steal the show.
By its very nature, Jojo Rabbit’s was always going to sink or swim on the strength of its young cast, with the entire thing at risk of crumbling had they not been up to the task, however, there’s little fear of that here, as they all play a huge part in the film’s ultimate success. Ably supported by the burgeoning talent of Thomasin McKenzie and the impossibly adorable Archie Yates, Roman Griffin Davis is an absolute revelation with a level of maturity, emotional nuance, and comic timing way beyond his years.
Jojo Rabbit really is Roman’s film and he makes sure to grab the opportunity with both hands in what is, remarkably, his first acting gig. Charming and cute without becoming annoying, Roman injects just the right level of naivety and innocence into his performance, offering a heart-breaking portrayal of a confused and lonely child easily led by the chaos and evil around him.
Even for a story as relatively small scale as this, to have the entire weight of a film resting on such inexperienced shoulders would be enough to make many buckle under the pressure, yet Roman, together with Archie Yates and Thomasin McKenzie, rises to the challenge. After his successes with Boy and Hunt for the Wilderpeople, it’s clear that Taika Waititi has a real knack for drawing out impressive performances from his young protagonists and Jojo Rabbit represents his finest moment to date.
The director’s ability to lean into his young cast and work to their strengths is in full force here, highlighting just how much of a filmmaking talent Waititi has become and how, even after the enormity of his work with Marvel, he’s never lost his eye for the heart of a story.
While the film’s humour may be a little close-to-the-bone for some, Taika Waititi pulls no punches in his satirical war on hate, as comedy and tragedy rub awkward shoulders with one another, producing something that’s both sweetly naïve and brazenly confrontational. Thanks to a star-making performance from Roman Griffin Davis and bolstered by Waititi’s warm, off-beat sense of humour, Jojo Rabbit is a triumph of heart over hate that shows respect to its contentious subject matter while laughing in its big, ugly Nazi face.