The Counterfeiters
Directed by Stefan Ruzowitsky at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema & Angelika Film Center
The conflict at the center of The Counterfeiters—saving yourself versus saving everyone else—is as morally sticky as they come. Based on Holocaust survivor Adolf Burger’s memoir The Devil’s Workshop, Stefan Ruzowitzky’s The Counterfeiters, in German with English subtitles, explores a side of the Holocaust we haven’t seen before: a concentration camp where prisoners are not subject to ritual violence but psychologically manipulated and forced to compromise their own morals.
In 1942, the Nazis launched Operation Bernhard, which was an attempt to weaken British and American economies by printing counterfeit pound notes and dollars in a press staffed by Jewish “professional criminals” like the appointed leader, counterfeit artist extraordinaire Salomon “Sally” Sorowitsch (Karl Markovics). The prisoners were told that their failure would result in execution; in the meantime, they were treated to better-than-decent living conditions at the Sachsenhausen concentration camp: hearty meals, soft mattresses and even a ping-pong table.
Sectioned off from the rest of the camp, Blocks 18 and 19 look less like Schindler’s List and more like Cool Hand Luke. The difference is jarring; we’ve come to expect the predictable gray heaviness of Holocaust movies, and Ruzowitzky savors the irony, scoring his scenes not with swelling strings, but with the sweet strains of Spanish guitar and harmonica. Many of the prisoners were transferred there from Auschwitz—a ghostly absence which lingers just outside the frame of each scene—including Burger, played by August Diehl, who urges Sorowitsch to take steps to sabotage the operation. He’s keenly aware of the immorality of not only aiding the Nazi war effort but also of living in comfort while so many Jews suffer infinitely worse fates.
Sorowitsch is hesitant to thwart the efforts of the SS officers, who encourage their prisoners and organize morale-boosting cabarets, but Ruzowitsky never allows us to forget that they’re the bad guys. One officer denounces Jews’ propensity for dishonest work, even as his outfit forces them to continue the counterfeit operation, and he punctuates his statement by urinating on Sorowitsch. In rare moments like this, Karl Markovics allows Sorowitsch to step out from behind his quiet scowl and explode, frantically rinsing off and tearing at the sink, a Lady Macbeth against his will.
Nominated for an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film, The Counterfeiters manages to be devastating without a hint of sentimentality. Ruzowitzky’s straightforward approach to this unusual story and cinematographer Benedict Neunfels’s documentary-style immediacy transcend the now well-worn Holocaust genre, bringing another side of the tragedy into unflinching focus.
Directed by Stefan Ruzowitsky at the Lincoln Plaza Cinema & Angelika Film Center
The conflict at the center of The Counterfeiters—saving yourself versus saving everyone else—is as morally sticky as they come. Based on Holocaust survivor Adolf Burger’s memoir The Devil’s Workshop, Stefan Ruzowitzky’s The Counterfeiters, in German with English subtitles, explores a side of the Holocaust we haven’t seen before: a concentration camp where prisoners are not subject to ritual violence but psychologically manipulated and forced to compromise their own morals.
In 1942, the Nazis launched Operation Bernhard, which was an attempt to weaken British and American economies by printing counterfeit pound notes and dollars in a press staffed by Jewish “professional criminals” like the appointed leader, counterfeit artist extraordinaire Salomon “Sally” Sorowitsch (Karl Markovics). The prisoners were told that their failure would result in execution; in the meantime, they were treated to better-than-decent living conditions at the Sachsenhausen concentration camp: hearty meals, soft mattresses and even a ping-pong table.
Sectioned off from the rest of the camp, Blocks 18 and 19 look less like Schindler’s List and more like Cool Hand Luke. The difference is jarring; we’ve come to expect the predictable gray heaviness of Holocaust movies, and Ruzowitzky savors the irony, scoring his scenes not with swelling strings, but with the sweet strains of Spanish guitar and harmonica. Many of the prisoners were transferred there from Auschwitz—a ghostly absence which lingers just outside the frame of each scene—including Burger, played by August Diehl, who urges Sorowitsch to take steps to sabotage the operation. He’s keenly aware of the immorality of not only aiding the Nazi war effort but also of living in comfort while so many Jews suffer infinitely worse fates.
Sorowitsch is hesitant to thwart the efforts of the SS officers, who encourage their prisoners and organize morale-boosting cabarets, but Ruzowitsky never allows us to forget that they’re the bad guys. One officer denounces Jews’ propensity for dishonest work, even as his outfit forces them to continue the counterfeit operation, and he punctuates his statement by urinating on Sorowitsch. In rare moments like this, Karl Markovics allows Sorowitsch to step out from behind his quiet scowl and explode, frantically rinsing off and tearing at the sink, a Lady Macbeth against his will.
Nominated for an Oscar for Best Foreign Language Film, The Counterfeiters manages to be devastating without a hint of sentimentality. Ruzowitzky’s straightforward approach to this unusual story and cinematographer Benedict Neunfels’s documentary-style immediacy transcend the now well-worn Holocaust genre, bringing another side of the tragedy into unflinching focus.
