I have just read about the latest Holocaust movie in the Seattle Times here.
The photo that the man appears to be holding is not appropriate because it shows a train arriving at Auschwitz-Birkenau and there are no guard towers.
The following quote is from the article:
There are a couple of powerful moments when survivors relate their stories, but for the most part, Johann’s Auschwitz investigations remain at the level of silent montages. When, in an effort to get a servant to help him identify [Dr.] Mengele, he shows her a photo of what they did to children, we don’t see the photo. Is it mere “tastefulness” that keeps director Giulio Ricciarelli from showing us what’s in the picture? Or is it a knowledge that the darkness could eventually consume us, too?
I think I know which photo they are talking about. It is the photo below, which I have on my website here: http://www.scrapbookpages.com/AuschwitzScrapbook/History/Articles/Birkenau01B2.html
I blogged about this photo here: https://furtherglory.wordpress.com/2010/09/04/what-imams-learned-on-their-trip-to-auschwitz/
This quote is from my website:
Rudolf Hoess wrote in his autobiography, entitled “Death Dealer,” that many of the Gypsy children suffered from an illness called “Noma,” which reminded him of leprosy.
The photo above, taken after the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau, shows Gypsy children who had the disease called Noma. Many Holocaust True Believer websites claim that the photo above shows Jewish children who were tortured at Auschwitz.
The news article starts with the following quote:
Can a film about the Holocaust actually be “entertaining”? Dare we even ask such a question? To be fair, the German film Labyrinth of Lies — that country’s submission for the Academy Awards this year — isn’t so much about the Holocaust as it is about the aftermath. But still, the zip and flash with which this legal drama moves feels odd, in light of the historical events that loom over it. Here’s a movie about the efforts to bring the soldiers stationed at Auschwitz to justice, and it’s strangely light on its feet.
It starts in the late 1950s, with young public prosecutor Johann Radmann (Alexander Fehling) brashly accepting a case involving an Auschwitz guard currently living a quiet life as a schoolteacher. No other lawyer in the office wants to bring charges against the man; in fact, nobody, not even Johann, seems even to know what Auschwitz was. The Americans took all the war records, the Nuremberg trials have long since concluded (and convicted only a small handful of leaders), and there’s a new enemy to fight now: Communism. All of Germany seems to be under a cloud of forgetfulness. “It’s all propaganda,” one person says, when confronted with the facts. “The victors make up stories.”
But Johann — youthful and ignorant, but also dogged and righteous — starts to learn more about the Holocaust, and about Auschwitz. He starts collecting survivor accounts. He learns the name of Dr. Josef Mengele — and, to his shock, discovers that not only do the German authorities know the notorious war criminal is living peacefully in Argentina, but that they even turn a blind eye when he returns home on occasion. And Johann realizes that prosecuting one man isn’t enough: There were 8,000 people who worked at the concentration camp, and he considers them all accountable for the hundreds of thousands who died there.
No one wants to hear it because there are skeletons in pretty much everyone’s closet. When Johann inquires with an American at the war archive if the schoolteacher he’s investigating was a Nazi, the man doesn’t even bother to look it up. “He was a Nazi,” the American shrugs. “You were all Nazis.”