Monthly Archives: February 2019

Arts, Films, Literature

Film Review: All Is True (12A)

REVIEW

AT the Global Theatre in London on June 29, 1613, a stage cannon was fired during a performance of William Shakespeare’s play All Is True, which today we know as Henry VIII.

. See also Short Essay: Shakespeare’s Plays

Such a small and theatrical flourish would come to have devastating consequences, because the cannon set fire to the Globe’s thatched roof and within an hour one of the most famous playhouses, where most of Shakespeare’s plays had been unveiled, had burned to the ground.

The career of the country’s greatest playwright ended on the same night. He never wrote another significant play and died a couple of years later.

Those last two years are the focus of Kenneth Branagh’s All Is True. Heartbroken and bereft, Shakespeare returns to his home town of Stratford, and to the uneasy embrace of his wife Anne Hathaway and their two daughters, whom he has rarely visited over the previous two decades.

All Is True is heavyweight production, particularly in terms of those doing the acting. Branagh, who has done as much as anyone alive to bring Shakespeare’s plays to the silver screen, plays the great man himself.

Under a gleaming dome of a forehead, he is, though, barely recognisable. A knobbly prosthetic nose and a jutting bearded chin which, when added to a surprising lack of assertiveness, give him the air of a man who can’t decide whether he has entered a lookalike contest as Jimmy Hill.

Less compromised by the make-up department, Judi Dench plays Anne, and Ian McKellen has a highly enjoyable cameo as Shakespeare’s erstwhile patron, the Earl of Southampton. It is strongly hinted that the Earl was also the object of Shakespeare’s ardour. Or “Bardour”, if you prefer.

The script is by Ben Elton, who has tempered the jauntiness of his Shakespearean sitcom Upstart Crow to give us a barrage of sexual scandal and a whirl of emotions – grief, resentment, envy, lust – more suited to a modern soap opera like EastEnders. Or, maybe something else entirely different.

All Is True largely unfolds as an everyday tale of country folk, for which Dench unpacks her best rural vowels. Some might rather suggest it’s a ruff version of The Archers.

 

THE scandals concern both Shakespeare’s daughters. Susanna (Lydia Wilson) is unhappily married to a holier-than-thou Puritan doctor, to whom she is appearing unfaithful.

Judith (Kathryn Wilder) marries the more rakish Tom Quiney (Jack Colgrave Hirst), who has already impregnated another local woman, Margaret Wheeler (Eleanor de Rohan).

The grief is mostly Shakespeare’s, whose return to Stratford, without the distraction of writing and staging all those plays, re-ignites the pain of losing his only son, 11-year-old Hamnet, many years earlier.

“I’ve lived so long in imaginary worlds, I’ve lost sight of what is real,” he laments. At first, he gets precious little sympathy either from the stolidly undemonstrative Anne, or from miserable Judith, who was Hamnet’s twin, and feels certain that her father would prefer her to have perished instead.

Occasionally, Shakespeare loses his temper with these unappreciative womenfolk. “Through my genius I’ve brought fame and fortune to this house,” he bellows, and 400 years or so later there’s no real arguing with that, though Anne doesn’t look too convinced. But, gradually, the family learn to live with and even love each other again, despite Elton pulling out a rather startling late twist.

Branagh’s decision to cast Dench has raised eyebrows.

Anne was eight years older, whereas the actual gap between them is 26. Nevertheless, it’s a pleasure to see our greatest Shakespearean actress playing the Bard’s wife, and, All Is True contains many pleasures, not least the cinematography by Zac Nicholson.

Nicholson pounces like another 17th-century genius, Rembrandt, on the lighting opportunities afforded by all those candles, and all those sunbeams streaming through mullioned windows.

Outside, the panorama shots are ravishing. Warwickshire is a beautiful part of the country.

Verdict: An Intriguing tale.

★★★★

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Arts, Books, History

Book Review: The Boy Who Followed His Father Into Auschwitz

REVIEW

Intro: When 19-year-old Fritz Kleinmann learned his father was being sent to the notorious concentration camp, he begged to go with him even though it meant almost certain death

THIS shattering book about the Holocaust is a must read, lest we forget the depravities to which humans can sink, and what the human body and spirit can endure.

We know about the use of the gas chambers, but this account informs us more about the living death outside such hell holes. Those selected to be slave labourers are worked until they drop and die of complete exhaustion.

. See also Book Review – ‘Hitler’s Scapegoat: The Boy Assassin And The Holocaust’

It is also the astonishing narrative of the unbreakable paternal bond between a father and a son, Gustav and Fritz Kleinmann, from a happy Viennese Jewish family – a bond that is so strong that the son volunteered to be transported to Auschwitz in order not to be parted from his father.

Jeremy Dronfield delivers a brilliantly researched and written book that offers searing clarity. Things are ghastly from the very beginning – Viennese Jews being made to scrub the pavements by their previously friendly neighbours who have become rabid anti-Semites overnight – and then get progressively worse. It is inconceivable or unimaginable they can get any worse, but they do.

Reading Dronfield’s deliberations could be deemed as a kind of torture. It’s almost unbelievable that the chief protagonists, Gustav and Fritz, lived every day of this hell for six years.

In one of the first round-ups of able-bodied Viennese Jews, on September 10, 1939, those two (aged 48 and 16) were carted off to Buchenwald concentration camp in Weimar.

On the very first day of their incarceration, when everyone, thirsty and terrified, was made to get out of the cattle wagons and run 8km uphill to the camp without stopping is just a mere taster of the daily torture and cruelty that was in store.

 

AS ALWAYS with the Holocaust, there are new details you learn that, once heard about, you can’t ever forget. Inside the hell of barbed-wire fences, searchlights, routine beatings and starvation that was Buchenwald, there stood a beautiful old oak tree, known as the “Goethe Oak”. So named, because under it, this is where Goethe used to sit while writing his poems.

From the branches of that oak, the enslaved prisoners were hung by their arms for hours on end, as a punishment for not working hard enough in the backbreaking quarries, where they were enforced to do 12-hour shifts pushing wagonloads of boulders uphill. Sadistic guards lashed them and called them “Jew-pigs”.

There can be no starker image to bring home the fact that those depraved atrocities happened in the “civilised” country of Goethe, Beethoven and Bach.

And there’s worse: the administration of lethal injections by smiling doctors of death, routine lashings and despicable starvation punishments.

A favourite sport for the guards was to throw a prisoner’s cap beyond the sentry line and encourage him to go and fetch it.

If he stepped beyond the line he was shot for trying to escape. A guard was awarded three days’ holiday for every “escapee” he killed.

Gustav managed to keep a tiny diary, which he hid, for the entire six years. He didn’t write much, as there wasn’t much space within the confines, but every now and then he wrote sentences of such humanity, using the vocabulary of a man of morals in a place of such depravity, that to read them is balm.

“One can scarcely drag oneself along,” he wrote, “but I have made a pact with myself that I will survive to the end. I take Gandhi as my model. He is so thin, yet survives. Every day I say a prayer to myself: ‘Gustl, do not despair. Grit your teeth: the SS murderers must not beat you.’”

Young Fritz was taken under the wing of some older fellow inmates, who had helped him to survive by teaching him the art of bricklaying.

A pivotal moment came when, on October 15, 1942, Fritz heard that his father had been put on the list of 400 prisoners to be transported to Auschwitz the next day.

He insisted on getting onto that list as well, but his chief mentor, a kind man called Robert Siewert, was aghast: “What you’re asking is suicide,” he said. “You have to forget your father. These men will all be gassed.”

Fritz was adamant. He could not bear to be parted from his father, and formally requested that he should be sent to Auschwitz, too.

So it was that father and son travelled to their next place of horror, where they were both selected for work rather than instant death.

To Gustav’s astonishment, he realised that he was in the same barrack building where he’d been hospitalised during World War I (he had been a decorated military hero).

Again and again, over the next few years, father and son came within a whisker of death, whether from random selection, punishment, illness (which nearly always led to the gas chambers) or American bombing raids.

Somehow, through a network of good luck and kindness, they survived – seasoned old “Buchenwalders”, toughened up through enduring years of the nightmare.

Many newcomers couldn’t cope with the shock: within days they were reduced to broken-spirited wrecks, especially when they found out that their wives and children had been sent straight off to Birkenau to be gassed.

Gustav and Fritz were spared till much later the knowledge that Tini and Herta (wife/mother, daughter/sister) had been transported to the east in 1942 and shot on arrival, their bodies thrown into a pit.

 

THANKFULLY, Fritz’s brother Kurt had succeeded in getting a visa for the U.S., and his sister Edith fortunately managed to get to England, where she fell in love with and married another refugee.

It is the generous acts of strangers that will likely pull at your heartstrings the most.

The slave labourers at Auschwitz worked alongside German civilians in the local factory, and one of these, Fredl Wocher, turned out to be a kind and trustworthy person who went to Vienna on leave, and brought back loving messages and food parcels from Gustav and Fritz’s old and loyal neighbours.

As the whole Nazi murder machine fell apart in 1945, the skeletal surviving prisoners were sent on death-marches or death-train journeys to Belsen.

By the time they were liberated by the Americans, both men were just skin and bone. Fritz weighed just five-and-a-half stone.

Amazingly, Gustav lived on until 1976, and happily remarried, or that Fritz (who married twice and had a son) lived until 2009.

Like so many held during those dark years, Gustav never wanted to talk about their ordeal. Fritz, however, seething with anger, was determined that the story should be told. He had the courage to do so.

His own memoir was entitled, And Still The Dog Just Will Not Die. The Nazis had tried to obliterate him and his father, but in the end they had failed.

Their living, breathing children and grandchildren are the Kleinmann’s final triumph.

– The Boy Who Followed His Father Into Auschwitz by Jeremy Dronfield is published by Michael Joseph for £12.99, 432pp

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Medical, Psychology, Science

(Quantum Leaps): Sigmund Freud

1856–1939

“The interpretation of dreams is the royal road to the unconscious activities of the mind.” – Freud

SIGMUND Freud’s popular impact remains profound even today. Yet for a scientist who changed the world, some critics would argue that his methods were at best unscientific and at worst downright reckless. Indeed, later thinkers in the fields of psychology and psychiatry have long since discredited many of his conclusions but still the Austrian’s influence pervades. Whatever the rights or wrongs of his ‘scientific’ deductions, Sigmund Freud remains the benchmark by which others working in the same field must compare themselves and compete against.

Medical Beginnings

Freud’s entry into science was far less controversial. He began by studying medicine at the University of Vienna in 1873 and went on to take up a position at a hospital in the same city from 1882. It was time spent working with the French neurologist Jean-Martin Charcot (1825–93) in Paris 1885, however, which set him on the path of his future career. Here he worked with patients suffering from hysteria and began to analyse the causes of their behaviour. Additional research with Josef Breuer back in Vienna during the early 1890s helped develop the basis for all of his future work, culminating in the publication of Studies in Hysteria in 1895.

The Idea of ‘Free Association’

In common with views generally held at the time, at the heart of Freud’s conclusions was a belief that mental illness was normally a psychological rather than a physical brain disease. Once one accepted this premise then Freud’s introduction of the idea of “psychoanalysis” for diagnosing the causes of mental disorder (and indeed ultimately to explain all mental behaviour) was a logical one.

One of the innovative tools he developed to aid in this was the idea of “free association”. Rather than hypnotise people as was traditional, Freud advocated this method whereby patients enunciated thoughts or ideas which came into their consciousness without prior contemplation or analysis.

Dream Theory

From this Freud believed he could make an insight into the “unconscious” of a patient and, in particular, the “repressed” thoughts and emotions (often related to past negative experiences) which their “conscious” prevented from being articulated or enacted upon. For Freud, having a patient understand and acknowledge their repressed desires was a route to therapy and ultimately the treatment of a mental disorder. He also believed that dreams offered a major insight into repressed thoughts held in the unconscious mind. This is shown in his most prominent work – which fully established his revolutionary approach – and which is entitled The Interpretation of Dreams, published in 1899.

While many critics were able to bear with – if not necessarily agree with – Freud’s interpretations up until this point, he caused an outcry with his 1905 Three Essays on the Theory of Sexuality. His conclusions included the explanation that most repressed behaviour was in essence suppression of sexual impulses and, most shockingly, this activity began in infancy. It was here that he also introduced the now notorious concept of the Oedipus complex, a phrase used by Freud to describe feelings of sexual attraction of a child for its parent of the same sex, and hostility to the parent of the other sex. This phrase, Freud claimed, speculatively at best, was one that all children passed through.

Gradually, however, Freud’s analyses would gain credibility, if not necessarily with everyone, and certainly by the 1920s they had entered the popular consciousness on a global scale. He wrote many other texts including the 1923 The Ego and the ID. Freud effectively redefined the “unconscious” as the “ID”, an intangible collection of base impulses such as instincts and emotions present in the mind from birth. With experience, living and structure, aspects of the ID would gradually help formulate a person’s “ego”.

Freud By Name, Freudian By Nature

Freud’s legacy remains as much in the tools of language that he has bestowed on the modern world as anything else. Terms he introduced or of which he altered the meaning to give them our now common understanding, include: psychoanalysis, free association, the ID, the ego, neuroses, repression, the Oedipus complex and, of course, the Freudian slip. The structured, systematic approach he brought to analysing an inherently difficult-to-quantify subject also pervaded the work of his successors in the field.

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