There have been so many extraordinarily powerful films about the Holocaust that it’s hard to imagine one more telling us anything new. The Boy In The Striped Pyjamas might, because it proffers a view from the other side: from the eyes and ears of a child whose father runs a concentration camp behind their back garden.
Originally a book by John Boyne, written in a childish prose that belies its dark subject, it’s a startling, challenging narrative where our sympathies are tugged awkwardly against type and our hearts expertly strung. The fact that the book’s central scenario seems somehow unlikely (the Commandant’s bewildered son secretly meets and befriends a child from the camp – the boy in the striped pyjamas) becomes irrelevant as the book gathers momentum.
All credit to Boyne for an ending that refuses to flinch from the unchildlike horror of the camps. I hope the film keeps that faith.
The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas is in UK cinemas from Friday 12th September.
I have recently read the book and will be waiting for the movie. I am really anxious to see how would they portray this on the screen. The book reads good for two reasons – the final punch at the end and the child’s questions innocent narrative. It is going to be tough to portray that narrative.