The Austrian Blessed Franz Jägerstätter, a conscientious objector, refuses to fight for the Nazis in World War II.
“If God gives us free will we are responsible for what we do and what we fail to do” – Franz Jaegerstatter.
Terrence Malick has made some of the most visceral films during the last 40-plus years of his career. Famously reclusive when it comes to media interviews, he returns to form with his first linear narrative since “The New World,” and his first feature not to be shot with DP extraordinaire Emmanuel Lubezki. Filmed over the summer in the Italian Alps and the actual village of St. Radegund, Austria, the story takes place from 1938-1943. Admittedly, I have yet to see “To the Wonder” or “Song to Song” but I did enjoy the meandering beauty of “Knight of Cups.” His lack of narrative structure is admirable but occasionally can be an alienating experience. Having returned to the WWII genre, Malick could not have picked a better figure or setting to correlate to our seemingly neverending fascism and spread of hatred. Based on the inspirational story of Franz Jägerstätter, the voiceover and events are adapted from preserved letters sent between him and his wife Franziska which have also been published as a novel.
As is quite common with being a working German actor, August Diehl has appeared in a lot of WWII films. Although typecast with the deluge of war outings, he’s excelled having played quite a few memorable roles. Diehl has made noteworthy appearances as a concentration camp hustler in the remarkable “The Counterfeiters,” and most famously as the sinisterly intuitive Nazi Sturmbannfuhrer Hellstrom in “Inglorious Basterds.” That card game scene between him and Michael Fassbender in the aforementioned “Basterds” is one of the best moments in cinematic history. This time around he plays a staunch pacifist, sadly a role that’s rarely if ever celebrated on film. Diehl stated in an interview that he was told to not perform as a hero or overly self-righteous. His life was relatively unknown outside of Austria until the 1970s when an American journalist broke the story for the world to hear.
Beginning in 1938, Franz is a peasant farmer living in Sankt Radegund, amongst the pristine Alps in Upper Austria. The film wastes no time introducing us to how the lovely couple Franz and Franziska met with typical Malick voice-over narration accompanied by a superb montage of poignant images. It was magnificent to get an honest glimpse into the daily hard work and devotion it takes to be a farmer. The characters are covered in dirt but not in a grotesque middle ages manner, alas it’s the conclusion of hard labor. After a series of average days in the life of the happy couple, one morning, Franziska steps out and looks up after hearing the thundering rumble of German fighter planes. The war, with its trail of hate and fear, has come to stir up the quiet village. Franz watches on helplessly as neighbors are being called up for service and fellow villagers begin to intimidate him for refusing to join the fascist regime. Later, he declines to contribute to Nazi troops coming to his front door to extort what little money he has for their war fund. It’s not before long that the ramifications of his actions are punitively dealt with. He’s sent to Berlin to await his judgment and thus begins the series of letters between himself and Franziska.
The use of artificial lighting was so minimal that it shows with nearly every scene awash in natural light. The format is digitally shot on the Red Epic Dragon, which was chosen for its ability to handle the contrasts, shadows, and authentic colors of the summer blossoming foothills. Director of Photography Jorg Widmer joins Malick framing the sweeping landscapes, rustic farmsteads, and dense forests. Just as large as Malick gets with his terrains he has such a dynamic use of profoundly handheld portrait shots during intimate discussions. He shot this over two years ago but it’s no secret that his lengthy shoots are a daunting task to cut down into a feature, three editors worked on this. Clocking in at nearly three hours long, “A Hidden Life” is something akin to a theatrical religious experience and appropriate to properly respect Franz’s life. There have been countless WWII films centering on American heroism and the Holocaust which are understandable but there are literally millions of other people’s stories. Likewise, it’s crucial to tell tales of ordinary citizens that stood up against a leviathan of evil. As in “The Thin Red Line,” Malick recites a different, less propagandist illustration of the War.
Malick collaborated with regular composer James Newton Howard, to blend typical Alpine village sounds: church bells, a sawmill, and scythes cutting grass, into a unified lavish tapestry of splendid music. The visuals and sounds harmonizing without being a musical are beyond what I have ever seen on film.
The rest of the cast features tremendous European actors and for the most part, the dialogue is spoken in English. One of my favorite actors, Matthias Schoenarts, plays a military administrator and he has a fascinating yet morally vacuous conversation with Franz about what is evil and maybe God actually favors what the Nazis are doing. An unexpected benefit of shooting a film a couple of years ago is veteran actors like Bruno Ganz and Michael Nyqvist, who sadly both passed before its release, appear in their last roles. Ganz plays a semi-reluctant Nazi Judge and Nyqvist plays Franz’s Bishop. Franz says the fantastic aforementioned quote about free will and the bishop is more frightened that Franz is a Nazi spy. Even a man of the cloth fears the Nazis over the Almighty. Valerie Pachner is a revelation as Franziska, she formulates an emotionally and physically accomplished performance as a woman being left with three daughters having to complete all the difficult farm chores by herself. Even worse, she’s shunned by nearly the entire village over her husband’s refusal to swear an oath to Hitler, and many outraged they had to sacrifice their loved ones. Her correspondence with Franz is apropos to cement how much their love helped them both endure such an arduous time. Her father, who fully supports Franz’s brave protest, says “it’s better to suffer an injustice than to commit one.” I couldn’t agree more with that sentiment. I was also so thrilled to see August Diehl reunite with his “Counterfeiters” co-star Karl Marcovics.
“A Hidden Life” is tragic yet Franz’s principles and actions are life-affirming. Ultimately, Pope Benedict beatified him and he was labeled an official martyr for being a conscientious objector. His wife lived to be 100 years old and his daughters, now in their 80s, have reportedly admired this grand testament to their father. We need to honor more men like Franz Jaegerstatter, standing up to blind evil should always be practiced and passed on.
“A Hidden Life” recently screened at the 2019 Philadelphia Film Festival
