Jojo Rabbit
“It matters that the filmmaker satirizing the horrors of the Holocaust is Jewish.”
Title: Jojo Rabbit (2019)
Director: Taika Waititi 👨🏽🇳🇿 (Māori)
Writer: Taika Waititi 👨🏽🇳🇿 (Māori)
Reviewed by Andrea Thompson 👩🏼🇺🇸
—MINOR SPOILERS AHEAD—
Technical: 5/5
I’m a big fan of Taika Waititi, from his vampire comedy series What We Do in the Shadows or earlier films like Hunt for the Wilderpeople (2016) and Thor: Ragnarok (2017). After success in both indie and mainstream universes, Waititi could have played it safe with another family-friendly work or action movie. Instead, with Jojo Rabbit, he makes a satire led by Jojo (Roman Griffin Davis), a 10-year-old boy who is such a true believer in Nazism that his imaginary friend is Hitler himself. As if that weren’t cheeky enough, Waititi himself plays this imaginary Hitler.
Rather than becoming a colossal misfire, Jojo Rabbit somehow succeeds as a hilarious cautionary tale, where the ideology of hate stirs up both personal and political consequences. By the end of the film, everyone—eager acolytes and rebels in disguise alike—witnesses its horrors up close. Even the family unit that fascism exalts is shown to splinter. In the case of Jojo, he transforms into someone his mother Rosie (Scarlett Johansson) no longer recognizes. She’s left to hope her son hasn’t been permanently twisted by his immersion in Nazi culture.
Despite such heavy themes, Jojo Rabbit never relinquishes its comedic side. In fact, humor helps balance the harsh realities of this time period, making the film all the more powerful. Even its victims feel fully human, particularly in the case of Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie), the Jewish girl Jojo discovers his mother is hiding. Rather than being shown as a complete angel, Elsa instead responds to the world realistically for someone who has lost everything she’s ever loved. She may have been victimized by the Third Reich, but she is far more than a simplistic victim as she and Jojo form a genuine and reciprocal bond that grounds the film’s emotional narrative.
Gender: 3/5
Does it pass the Bechdel Test? YES, but barely
Jojo serves as the main character, but different types of women appear in supporting roles. Elsa comes the closest to being a co-lead, and she gets her own character arc where she relearns the joys of life outside of mere survival mode. Jojo even develops a schoolboy crush on her. His affection is sweet in the way only prepubescent love can be, but thankfully transforms into a more mature and sibling-like relationship over the course of the film.
Unfortunately, the other women of Jojo Rabbit don’t fare as well. Jojo’s mother, Rosie, feels simplistic as she can do no wrong. Even her decision to shelter Elsa harkens back to her motherly nature. On the plus side, they do hold conversations independent of Jojo, as Rosie mentors Elsa on her journey to becoming more than just a fugitive who must hide from the world.
Jojo Rabbit also features Rebel Wilson as Fraulein Rahm, a Nazi who remains a true believer to the end. The casting choice adds an extra layer of complexity to the usual gender norm of only seeing male zealots. Her screen time is limited, but she earns one of the biggest laughs of the movie; during a Nazi training, where the boys learn to be soldiers girls are taught to be docile wives and mothers, Fraulein Rahm boasts: “I’ve had 18 babies for Germany. Such a great year to be a girl.” She’s mostly underutilized, but it’s refreshing to see onscreen how women can be just as ridiculous and destructive as men when they, too, embrace a hateful belief system.
Race: 3/5
As expected for a movie set during Nazi Germany—at least, one that doesn’t cover the regime’s atrocities against Black populations—the cast of Jojo Rabbit appears almost entirely white. But the film does subversively cast Waititi as imaginary Hitler. While his screen time diminishes over the course of the film, as Jojo gets to know Elsa and begins to accept reality more and more, Waititi’s Jewish and Māori ancestry serves as a pointed jibe at the racist legacy of Adolf Hitler.
Bonus for Religion: +1.00
Over and over again, minority filmmakers have cited the importance of authentic storytelling and controlling your own narrative. It matters that the filmmaker satirizing the horrors of the Holocaust is Jewish, especially in a time when antisemitism is once again on the rise. And if there’s one thing bullies of any kind can’t stand, it’s when you laugh at them. In such cases, humor has the power to not only baffle, but to disarm.
Bonus for LGBTQ: +0.25
Sam Rockwell and Alfie Allen play Nazi soldiers Captain Klenzendorf and Finkel, respectively, but with a twist: They clearly share a romantic relationship, even if the movie doesn’t outright state it. Whenever they’re onscreen, they sit together or hover in close contact. At one point, they gaze at each others’ lips and lean in, as if to kiss before catching themselves and snapping out of the moment. If any of this is somehow unclear, Rockwell eventually charges into battle in a flamboyant costume, complete with mascara.
Finkel teeters on the brink of stereotype with his more traditionally feminine qualities, such as a higher-pitched voice and smaller stature. But Rockwell’s character (who has far more screen time) not only helps Jojo and Elsa, he’s also depicted as a sardonic and skilled fighter. Overall, it feels positive to see gay characters depicted with sympathy, although the execution—writing them as Nazis who meet a tragic end—leaves much to be desired.
Deduction for Body Diversity: -0.50
Rebel Wilson’s size gets incorporated into a joke about her having had multiple pregnancies. In addition, for the movie’s only fat person to also be evil is a trope that really needs to be put out of its misery.
Mediaversity Grade: B 3.92/5
Jojo Rabbit takes an unusual route, to say the least, in condemning the politics of hate. But it’s also one of the boldest films in years. It accomplishes the seemingly impossible goal of taking one of the darkest periods in history and draws laughter from it. As this ugly chapter threatens to repeat itself against all manner of vulnerable communities—the United States holds the world’s highest rate of detained children, for example—films like Jojo Rabbit continue to expose the inanity of fear-based behavior.