Not many films contain a character described as a "child's imaginary friend, Adolf Hitler", but Jojo Rabbit isn't most films. Described as an "anti-hate satire", Taika Waititi's exploration of Nazi Germany through the eyes a child is certainly a quirky idea, but a film like this needs to stick the landing. Does it?
At 10 years old, the extremely patriotic Jojo joins a Hilter Youth training camp with his friend Yorki in Nazi Germany, inspired by the conversations with his imaginary friend: Adolf Hitler. Living with his mother and, as he later discovers, a young Jewish girl hiding in their loft, Jojo's love of his country challenges the love of his family, and he must decide how to handle their secret.
Jojo Rabbit isn't a perfect film but imbued with so much sincerity and heart, it's an easy film to fall in love with it. From a period in our history of great, everlasting pain, Waititi has crafted a screenplay - based on Christine Leunens' Caging Skies - that is both hilarious and harrowing in equal measures, powerfully cathartic while refusing to shy away from the devastating realities of life at the time. By exploring Nazi Germany through a new lens (that of a child), the film deftly wades into a coming-of-age territory, and we are able to see the effects of war and prejudice can have on a younger, impressionable generation: desensitisation and loss of childhood innocence are both themes that texture Waititi's writing, with the script's sharply-pointed messages still achingly relevant today.
Directing his own script, Waititi's trademark style could have felt misplaced in Jojo, but, for the most part, it works. Complete with excellent production and costume design that affirm the era while providing creativity and vibrancy of its own, the film's visuals tell an interesting story of their own, combining both heartfelt and technical direction skillfully. Mihai Malaimare Jr's cinematography is striking, with one particular out-of-the-blue, gasp-inducing shot seared into your memory long, long long after the credits have rolled. It's also worth mentioning Michael Giacchino's score, crucial in maintaining the film's unique tonal blend; it one of the year's strongest compositions, so cleverly heightening every emotional beat pitch-perfectly.
Jojo's filmmaking talents do not begin and end behind the camera though, with the on-screen ensemble as stacked as they are impressive. It is the younger cast who especially shine, with newcomer Roman Griffin Davis a real find in this breakthrough role as Jojo, demonstrating a complexity beyond his years in a portrayal of a young boy whose life has been moulded by the hateful malice of war. Thomasin McKenzie continues to demonstrate her remarkable acting gift, with a touching performance that approaches the tricky role with genuine care and empathy, while Archie Yates is a certified scene-stealing in his first-ever screen performance, brilliantly hilarious in his every appearance and line.
A supporting Scarlett Johnasson gives a tremendous performance as Jojo's mother. The mother-son bond she curates with Davis results in a stunning dynamic that ensures the film's emotional beats land as convincingly as they do, and you absolutely buy into their evolving relationship. Playful yet emotionally-stirring turn, Johnasson brings a vivacious energy to the film, with her turn representing everything a supporting performance should be: lifting the character, her co-stars and the overall film to a higher level through her accomplished work throughout.
Jojo means extremely well but that doesn't mean it's a perfect film; it can be a little overwhelming and overstuffed at times, with Waititi's Hilter the weakest element of a film which would still sustain its quirkiness if his purposely cartoonish but somewhat distracting depiction was reduced in the frequency of its use. In fact, the humour, on the whole, can feel a little bit hit and miss in its effectiveness, with some of the laughs landing a little more awkwardly than hoped.
Jojo Rabbit isn't a perfect film but imbued with so much sincerity and heart, it's an easy film to fall in love with it. From a period in our history of great, everlasting pain, Waititi has crafted a screenplay - based on Christine Leunens' Caging Skies - that is both hilarious and harrowing in equal measures, powerfully cathartic while refusing to shy away from the devastating realities of life at the time. By exploring Nazi Germany through a new lens (that of a child), the film deftly wades into a coming-of-age territory, and we are able to see the effects of war and prejudice can have on a younger, impressionable generation: desensitisation and loss of childhood innocence are both themes that texture Waititi's writing, with the script's sharply-pointed messages still achingly relevant today.
Directing his own script, Waititi's trademark style could have felt misplaced in Jojo, but, for the most part, it works. Complete with excellent production and costume design that affirm the era while providing creativity and vibrancy of its own, the film's visuals tell an interesting story of their own, combining both heartfelt and technical direction skillfully. Mihai Malaimare Jr's cinematography is striking, with one particular out-of-the-blue, gasp-inducing shot seared into your memory long, long long after the credits have rolled. It's also worth mentioning Michael Giacchino's score, crucial in maintaining the film's unique tonal blend; it one of the year's strongest compositions, so cleverly heightening every emotional beat pitch-perfectly.
Jojo's filmmaking talents do not begin and end behind the camera though, with the on-screen ensemble as stacked as they are impressive. It is the younger cast who especially shine, with newcomer Roman Griffin Davis a real find in this breakthrough role as Jojo, demonstrating a complexity beyond his years in a portrayal of a young boy whose life has been moulded by the hateful malice of war. Thomasin McKenzie continues to demonstrate her remarkable acting gift, with a touching performance that approaches the tricky role with genuine care and empathy, while Archie Yates is a certified scene-stealing in his first-ever screen performance, brilliantly hilarious in his every appearance and line.
A supporting Scarlett Johnasson gives a tremendous performance as Jojo's mother. The mother-son bond she curates with Davis results in a stunning dynamic that ensures the film's emotional beats land as convincingly as they do, and you absolutely buy into their evolving relationship. Playful yet emotionally-stirring turn, Johnasson brings a vivacious energy to the film, with her turn representing everything a supporting performance should be: lifting the character, her co-stars and the overall film to a higher level through her accomplished work throughout.
Jojo means extremely well but that doesn't mean it's a perfect film; it can be a little overwhelming and overstuffed at times, with Waititi's Hilter the weakest element of a film which would still sustain its quirkiness if his purposely cartoonish but somewhat distracting depiction was reduced in the frequency of its use. In fact, the humour, on the whole, can feel a little bit hit and miss in its effectiveness, with some of the laughs landing a little more awkwardly than hoped.
But that such a painful and comparatively recent area of our history can be tackled in such a considerate, feel-good and soul-stirring way means you cannot help but applaud the results. Jojo Rabbit is utterly heartwarming one minute, painfully sobering the next, and despite initial concerns, Waititi's "anti-hate satire" is a beautifully-orchestrated and carefully-rendered juggling act that marries thoughtful thematic musings with an off-kilter hilarity that audiences will lap up. It's still a few drafts away from being perfect but Jojo, you have won me over.
8.5/10
Summary: Not many films can boast Adolf Hitler as a ten-year-old child's imaginary friend but Taika Waititi's Jojo Rabbit is a tenderly-approached, thoughtfully-made and beautifully-acted satire, as heartwarming as it is heartbreaking.