THE STORY – Based on the true story of Helmuth Hübener, a German teenager who resisted the Nazi regime by distributing anti-Hitler pamphlets, becoming the youngest person executed by the Third Reich.
THE CAST – Ewan Horrocks, Ferdinand McKay, Daf Thomas, Nye Occomore & Rupert Evans
THE TEAM – Matt Whitaker (Director/Writer) & Ethan Vincent (Writer)
THE RUNNING TIME – 121 Minutes
It’s pretty hard to miss just how violently turbulent the current state of the world has become. There’s been a great deal of hardship and trauma visited upon many people, and sometimes the glimmer of positive news can get drowned out by overwhelming darkness. To find a sense of resolve, one must look out into that treacherous landscape and muster the courage to fight. History is often full of examples of encouragement, as there are, sadly, numerous instances of individuals needing to strike back against a grave evil that threatens to spread venom across the world. Reflections on the Second World War may seem like an obsession to some, but it’s a period that’s revisited for a reason. Very few instances in history have had such clear lines of righteousness clashing with forces of darkness for a clean moral victory. That feels particularly apt for the storytelling utilized in “Truth & Treason,” a well-meaning examination of this conflict whose effective brushstrokes are also broadly painted.
By the 1940s, the influence of the Nazis on the German people was already beginning to be felt. Even amid a raging war, young Helmuth Hübener (Ewan Horrocks) has his sights set on becoming a productive citizen who will serve the national government. At sixteen, he accepts a position in the archives and thinks proudly of himself serving his country when it is most needed. However, it doesn’t take long for Helmuth to question the directives he’s seeing. As the anti-Semitic propaganda starts to intensify, he becomes uneasy with this new direction the country is taking. The harassment of one of his Jewish friends spurs his disdain, which comes to a boiling point after he is forcibly taken to a concentration camp. This ignites a rebellious spirit, and Helmuth takes it upon himself to produce leaflets with dissident proclamations that rail against Hitler and the party. He and his friends continue this protest, but with a high-ranking officer in hot pursuit, it’s only a matter of time before Helmuth’s actions come to light, exposing his silent rebellion for the brave act of defiance it has manifested.
The most impressive aspect of the film is the textured details layered throughout the production. Aesthetically, the designs showcase an impressive recreation of the time period, with the sets and costumes bringing a real sense of authenticity to this setting. It isn’t as successfully captured by Bianca Cline’s cinematography, which often blows out any natural light to a distracting degree; however, the other physical elements are notable. Director Matt Whitaker’s hand doesn’t feel heavy stylistically, but it maintains a naturalistic tone that effectively conveys the stakes for these characters. His efforts are aided by Aaron Zigman’s score. The music captures both the period-specific musicality of the era, as well as rousing moments of tension and emotional catharsis. There’s a hint of Thomas Newman in the melodies that percolate through the anxious chase sequences and the spiritual uplift of inspiring moments, all of which serve to endear one to the filmmaking.
Beyond those facets, the narrative does struggle to become a more provocative work. The script by Whittaker and Ethan Vincent has a relatively simple goal: to showcase the audacious heroism of one individual whose act represents the defiance we all should take on when faced with unrelenting tyranny. It sets out to present this case with a broadly appealing objective, but its themes lack depth and are narrowly simplified. There is an immediate odd dissonance in hearing characters speak with pristine British accents, which is not a novel trait for films of this kind but seems entirely miscalculated, given that the setting is a nation at war with the United Kingdom. However, this is but one decision that exemplifies the film as a whole, choosing to reduce the subject to more palatable terms that may be effective for some but leave much to be desired for more intriguing characters.
Even though this account is taken from history, and Helmuth’s political transformation is rooted in the horrific treatment of his friend, his action is spurred by personal intervention. It’s a motivation that afflicts every participant in this story. His compatriots are moved to action only after they suffer harassment themselves from the local youth brigade. Even the hardened detective doesn’t have a flicker of sympathy until a personal tragedy strikes him, leading him to question the government’s intentions. The inspiring message of standing up against such malice is slightly undercut by the self-centered perspectives. It’s probably the more effective route to appeal to a general audience, but it strips away the more complex interiority that could have been explored. A romantic subplot only bloats the runtime, and the finale turns into an extended courtroom drama that suffers from formulaic writing and philosophizing, no matter how impactful the intention behind such sentiments may be.
Horrocks delivers a capable performance inhabiting the resilient spirit of this young fighter, even if his screen presence never really becomes all that captivating. He possesses the everyman personality, his idealism poisoned by a cruel system he feels compelled to battle; however, for the most part, his performance comes across as merely serviceable. He’s given more opportunities to project when he rallies his message in the final moments, but his portrayal never reaches anything beyond what is necessary. The same is true of Rupert Evans, the dedicated detective who can convey that steely resolve with a vulnerable core, but who maybe doesn’t leave the greatest impression. The ensemble’s best player is Nye Occomore as Salomon Schwarz, the Jewish friend who is harassed and eventually taken from the community. It’s a familiar role of the marginalized member of society forced to endure the pain of the world around him. Still, Occomore exudes an endearing aura, making him an engrossing figure. The stoicism he must force to the surface before surrendering to the inevitable may not be entirely novel, but his performance conveys this tortured mentality in an alluring way that is appreciated.
Obviously, the subject of Nazis and the Holocaust is a heavy subject matter, but it is still ultimately necessary for all kinds of audiences to be exposed to. It’s important to remember what was lost during this time, and why it’s also necessary to remember the voices that shouted back against such injustice. While “Truth & Treason“ is commendable in that attempt, its reductive methods make the storytelling weak and less interesting. It brings to mind the film “White Bird,“ another story set during this time period that aimed to discuss events related to Nazi occupation, intended for viewers of all ages. That film managed to thread its needle successfully, striking a balance between a family-friendly tone that never lost sight of the serious atmosphere in which the story was set. Even though the tactics are similar, the storytelling comes across as too simplistic and formulaic to ever become a truly introspective piece. The crafts are admirable, and the performances are durable, but the importance of this real-life tale doesn’t quite match the intensity showcased within this film.
