Schindler's List

The right-wing view of the Holocaust is not something I agree with, but at the very least it's refreshing to be able to deal with it these days. Schindler's List could easily be read as a defense of capitalism, whose values are "supra-ideal" and pragmatic, making it incapable of the irrational evil that the Holocaust is generally considered to be (which is conveniently myopic, of course, since every young child knows about its economic motivations). Equally, it can be read as advocacy of a trickle-down economy, whereby a wealthy factory worker develops a relationship with his employees, tries to keep them, and gradually sees them as human beings whom he can use his abilities to save. That makes this film have far more problematic levels than the 100 times rehashed closing sentiment (as awful as it is). However, Spielberg and Kaminski (whose creative input here I tend to place higher than the director's; after all, look at what kind of cinematic leap this is from Jurassic Park or Hook) have managed to translate the methodical chaos of the Holocaust to the screen perfectly in several scenes here, creating the illusion of a documentary and a surreal nightmare at the same time, as the situation must have had on many in retrospect. Nemes's Son of Saul is a few paces farther ahead in this, but I think it stands on the foundation of what Schindler's List built in certain places. (01/13/2022)

When Spielberg puts forward his most fundamental mental dilemma alongside opinions and beliefs, nothing can arise but the strongest and extra tasty cinematic coffee and his intellectual peak. While Schindler's transformation from an ordinary citizen to an unstoppable advocate for all neighbors gains intensity perhaps a bit inconspicuously, during grand scenes and perfectly credible streams of thoughts from the mouths of the main characters, it becomes all the more emphatic. A truly unique and irreplicable work in its own way, in every aspect. (12/30/2005)

I am sure I will only repeat what has been said many times about this immortal work of Steven Spielberg. For me, the film is actually perfect in every way. When strong emotions come, they do so without the need for manipulation, though of course it’s clear that given the subject matter, Spielberg had it easier in this respect at least – there is simply no emotional manipulation here either, we are "merely" being provided with the facts and it is up to each viewer how they can absorb these ancient facts or how the film ultimately affects them (how emotionally). In making Schindler's List, Steven Spielberg not only fulfilled his duty to the Jewish population, but also his duty to the entire world in ensuring that all generations of all nations are educated and informed about what man was capable of in the 1940s – both the most monstrous and the most noble. I waged an internal battle with the character of Oskar Schindler (the phenomenal Liam Neeson) for most of the film, and couldn't quite pin down his character or discern his intentions up until a certain point. The very respectable running time, in which there is not a single dead spot, gives a great amount of space to identify with the characters, their fates, and the fate they had to involuntarily accept. It's hard to say what Schindler's List would have been without Spielberg's evocative direction, likewise what it would have been without Zaillian's excellent screenplay, Williams' perfectly pitched soundtrack, or Janusz Kamiński's flawless cinematography. And did you notice that throughout the entire film, not once does the word "leader" appear in any language? (08/06/2011)

Definitely one of the best films Steven Spielberg ever made. It's a powerful story, which is also told quite brutally at times, which might be surprising, even coming from Spielberg, or at least it was surprising in 1993. Great performances by the cast, which even the classic Spielberg pathos, though very subdued, does not ruin. (05/29/2016)

If there is one single example of a film that is both excellent and thematically important, it is Schindler's List. Where else could you feel the indescribable horror and shame of the human deeds you have just seen, photographed in the most horrifying but at the same time most beautiful black and white composition imaginable? The scene with the little girl in the red coat, walking as a symbol of colourful innocence through pure hell, is probably the most powerful I have ever seen in a film, and it brings tears to my eyes every time; and even if it was the only one in the whole movie, I'd still never get this film out of my head – but it's not, not even close. Masterpiece. (05/05/2018)