But Divided We Fall --which swept the Czech Film Awards last year and was nominated for the Best Foreign Film Oscar -- is such a film, and by a director born 22 years after the end of the war, no less. Young Jan Hrebejk succeeds on two fronts: He walks the incredibly fine line between tragedy and farce without ever tipping into tastelessness, and he forges a film in which viewers are cajoled into a more forgiving point of view -- one that may be too forgiving for some.
The opening minutes give us the backstory in a few deft scenes. In Czechoslovakia in 1937, Horst Prohaska (Jaroslav Dusek) and Josef Cizek (Bolek Polívka) are happily employed by a Jewish businessman named Wiener; in 1939, the Wiener family is turned out of its home and moves in with Cizek and his wife, Marie (Anna Sisková); and in 1941, the Wieners are relocated to Theresienstadt, which, unbeknownst to them and their hosts, is no more than a waystation to extermination.
Two years later, all the Wieners are dead except for David (Csongor Kassai), a young man who manages to escape. He heads home and takes refuge with the Cizeks, in a hidden room behind a closet. The couple would be subject to immediate execution if David were found; the situation is even more perilous since Horst, now working for the Nazis, makes a habit of dropping by unannounced.
It quickly becomes clear that Horst's visits have less to do with any suspicions than with his designs on the comely Marie, who isn't the least bit interested. Things become even more complicated when Josef, whose surly manner has already made him suspect, takes a job with Horst and his Nazi bosses to mask his hiding of David. His new status as a collaborator earns him the loathing of his neighbors, to whom he cannot possibly risk explaining his motivations.
We won't give away further complications, which push the plot into something resembling a sex farce, but it should be apparent that were it not for the gravity of the setting, the story could just as easily be a comedy -- with everybody play-acting and doors opening and shutting and the repercussions of lies multiplying exponentially. And, remarkably, Hrebejk has managed to bring out the comedy in ways that only heighten the tension.
Divided We Fall is by no means perfect. There are moments when Hrebejk overplays his hand, as though he's lost faith in either his material or his audience. The heavy-handedness of the title -- which states the film's position so explicitly that it might as well have been Good Czechs Everywhere Must Pull Together to Defeat the Nazi Oppressors -- is one minor cavil. Likewise, the shot at the end of the opening credits -- of a terrified resident cowering before the Nazi flag -- and the vision of Marie's face superimposed on the Blessed Virgin Mary are a bit much.
But these are isolated moments in a movie that is, the rest of the time, gripping, thrilling and even funny, without sacrificing complexity of character. Even the worst of Hrebejk's characters are given their due. When, after the war, a mother encourages her children to slap a local Nazi leader who has been devastated psychologically by the loss of his family and physically by a stroke, we understand her vengeance, but feel some twinge of sympathy for the man nonetheless.
"You wouldn't believe the sorts of things such abnormal times cause normal people to do," Josef remarks early on. He is referring to the abnormally awful things, but, within Divided We Fall's two-hour running time, we also see some of the abnormally brave things they do as well.