I watched most of the Baftas last night. The experience was more enjoyable than at least some of the films, though I loved La La Land and was awed by Hacksaw Ridge – and disappointed that one didn't get more recognition (what does 'Best Editing' mean anyway?).
The one I was most pleased to see honoured, though, was the winner of 'Best film not in the English language'. Son of Saul is one of those films that isn't an enjoyable watch, but when you've seen it you're deeply glad you did. It's set in a Nazi death camp, probably Auschwitz, and Saul Auslander is one of the Jews deputed to usher the latest trainload of victims into the gas chambers – and dispose of their corpses. The action is filmed in oppressive close-up; we see the back of Saul's head, or his face. The opening scene, in which Jews are relieved of their clothes and valuables before being pushed naked into the killing room, is devastating – 'Don't forget your hook number,' they're told after they've hung up their clothes and been assured of hot soup and coffee after their 'shower'.
The story revolves round Saul's attempt to find a rabbi to say Kaddish over the body of one boy – one among thousands – he swears is his son. We don't know whether it's true, but it is an affirmation of God in a place where all the evidence is against him, and an assertion of humanity in a place where everyone behaves inhumanly.
Does it have a happy ending? Of course not; but there is a strange moment of joy that transcends the horror. As director Laszlo Nemes said when he accepted the Oscar for Best Foreign Language film last year, 'Even in the darkest hours, there might be a voice within us that allows us to remain human.'
But this isn't a film review, so here's why I'm glad Son of Saul won last night. I'm glad because I'm moved to deep admiration by an attempt to respond to the Holocaust that is worthy of its subject. Bad art, bad storytelling about terrible things is unforgivable; it cheapens something precious. Son of Saul is harrowing, but so it ought to be.
But I'm also glad because recognising a film about the Holocaust means people care, and people remember. The generation that experienced those events is passing away. There's another film out at the moment, Denial, that tells the story of the trial of Holocaust denier David Irving. He was stopped and his lies exposed. But we've seen even during the last year the fragility of truth and the urgent need for truth-telling. What actually happened can be overlaid by other agendas and manipulated for other purposes, or even denied outright; or even forgotten.
Even the Holocaust is vulnerable to this. It's a contested area, appealed to as a justification for a Greater Israel, resisted by victims of other genocides who ask, 'What about us?', and yes, flatly denied: type '6 million Jews' into a search engine and it will return plenty of websites asserting the whole thing is a myth. We cannot let these deniers go unchallenged, and there are complex and agonisingly difficult arguments around how the events of 70 years ago relate to the politics of today.
But if there's one thing Son of Saul does, it's to say, 'This happened.' What we do with that knowledge is up to us, but there's no hiding from it. And the film also offers us a glimpse of humanity and hope, even in the deepest darkness, and that's a great gift.
Follow Mark Woods on Twitter: @RevMarkWoods
