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Jonathan Glazer's Holocaust drama pushes the real horror off screen, showing only marginal glimpses of the concentration camp directly over the wall of the Commandant's family home. The physical barrier shields his family's view of the genocide occurring next door, but the sounds of the atrocities cannot be diminished, and its this juxtaposition of audio and visuals which makes the film so unsettling. But while I admire this unique approach to the material, its effect starts to wear thin at a certain point for me. Glazer, probably wisely, avoids narrative, tonal, or thematic modulation entirely, making the film feel purposefully flat; there's no character drama to get involved in, no subplots to grant the mind a vacation from the oppressively unpleasant atmosphere. At least until the final act, which culminates in a sequence I found thrillingly audacious but thematically muddled. The Zone of Interest is an unconventional film of contradictions, riveting and dull in equal measure, so I suppose my conflicted response is fitting.
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