![]() It’s a work of almost intolerable unpleasantness. ![]() The story of a prisoner at the Auschwitz concentration camp in 1944, László Nemes’ directorial debut thrusts one into the grim despair and misery of that infamous killing ground, forcing viewers to not only imagine the seemingly unimaginable, but to feel it – to breathe in the smell of charred flesh, to kneel on the filthy floors of the gas chambers, to wash the remains of your comrades out from under your fingernails. Yet despite having been the subject of innumerable documentaries and dramas, the Germans’ WWII extermination of six million-plus Jews has rarely been treated with more excruciating, uncompromising intimacy than in Son of Saul. The Holocaust has been filtered through all manner of cinematic prisms, from the harrowing non-fiction lenses of Marcel Ophüls’ The Sorrow and the Pity and Claude Lanzmann’s Shoah, to the piercing epic fictionalizations of Steven Spielberg’s Schindler’s List.
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