Film: Sophie Scholl

osprey_archer's review of this movie (here) made me curious to see it: I was drawn by her description of Sophie (who was a real person), an idealistic university student in Nazi Germany who loves life--jazz music and jam and the feel of sunshine on her face--but who finds she can't *not* be true to conscience, even if it means dying.

Sophie and her brother Hans are members of the White Rose Society, an antiwar group. They get arrested for distributing antiwar leaflets, and much of the movie is taken up with Sophie's examination by Investigator Mohr. Sophie at first spins easy lie after lie: only her hands, clenched on her lap, betraying her extreme anxiety.



After she admits to distributing the leaflets, their conversation becomes a battle of ideas. One thing the film addresses, obliquely, is privilege and class: Sophie is the daughter of a town mayor and highly educated. Mohr comes from a more humble background. So even though he has absolute power over her, she's able to speak with the confidence that comes from being used to other people's respect. It leads to exchanges such as this:

Sophie: Without Hitler, and his party, there'd be law and order for everyone. Everyone would be safe from arbitrary acts, not only the yes-men.

Mohr: How dare you make such derogatory remarks!

Sophie: Derogatory is calling my brother and me criminals because of some leaflets! We've only tried to convince people with words.

Mohr: You and your kind shamelessly abuse your privileges. You can study in wartime thanks to our money. I was only a tailor in that damn democracy. Do you know who made me a policeman? The French! ... Without the movement, I'd still be a country policeman.

And later:

Mohr: You're much better off than people like me. You don't need to do this. How dare you raise your voice? The Führer and the German people are protecting you!

It reminded me of the sorts of criticisms that American antiwar protestors have received, and the dynamic between Sophie and Mohr reminded me of the dynamic between young radicals and their older, more conservative relatives. Mohr talks about the law; Sophie talks about conscience.

Over the course of his conversations with her, Mohr comes to admire Sophie. He's concerned about her, but fundamentally can't understand her. "You're so gifted, why don't you think and feel like us?" he asks. She confronts him with the horrors the Nazis have committed; he denies some and says others were justified. He speaks of his son, about Sophie's age, who sometimes gets "crazy ideas," but who's doing his duty on the Eastern Front. "Do you believe in the Final Victory?" Sophie asks him, and he pauses for a long moment, unable to answer. A basic tenet of Mohr's faith, and he can't assent.

Whereas, Sophie has no trouble expressing her faith. It doesn't get a lot of screen time, but what time it does get packs a wallop. And it's another thing that puts her at odds with Mohr:

Sophie: No one knows how much wisdom can come from suffering. Every life is precious.

Mohr: You have to realize that a new age has dawned. What you're saying has nothing to do with reality.

Sophie: Of course it has to do with reality. With decency, morals, and God.

At that point Mohr rises in a fury, exclaiming, "God doesn't exist!"

Their charged conversations reminded me of Twelve Angry Men, another movie that shows how very dramatic the exchange of ideas can be. They're two deeply involving, deeply sympathetic characters. Yeah, Mohr too. I think one of the things that really impressed me about the film was that it made me ache for Mohr, who doesn't want to see this young life snuffed out, who tries to prevent it--and fails.

And the whole thing is beautifully filmed too: the camera lingers on faces, on jaws clenching, gazes shifting--so much is said without words. Visually, aurally (there are tense-making drums that play in the first half of the film), thematically--it's an exceptional film.