The Pessimism and Occasional Optimism of Juvenile Adulthood

I have not done a film review yet. Music yes, culture even. However, film reviews have thus far eluded my journalistic writings, not least because I've never seen myself as an impartial, well-informed critic on such a matter. Devout followers of my blog will know that my original blog layout featured a motivational image from The Secret Life of Walter Mitty, one of my favourite films. That, Waking Ned and the work of Richard Curtis largely makes up my list of favourites. That probably tells you enough about my questionable film tastes. But I want to talk about Jojo Rabbit, a film I saw this week and was enchanted by.  Based on a novel by Christine Leunens, it tells the story of a brainwashed member of the Hitler Youth in the dying months of WWII, who finds out that his mother is hiding a young Jewish woman (Elsa) in their spare bedroom. The film, promoted as an anti-hate satire, focuses on how his experiences and interactions with Elsa undermine the hatred he is relentle