Modern master of irreverent, oddball comedy Taika Waititi gained mainstream notoriety when he took the reins of a Marvel vehicle in the form of 2017's Thor: Ragnarok. The film has been praised to Helheim and back for infusing Waititi's indie wackiness into a major, corporate, franchise production. The man will return to the Marvel Cinematic Universe with Thor: Love and Thunder, but not until 2021, so it was hardly surprising when he announced that, in the meantime, he'd be making a satire about a Nazi-German child whose imaginary friend is Hitler.
What is surprising, however, is that said imaginary-Hitler satire, Jojo Rabbit, is perhaps Waititi's most straightforward film yet.
Set in WWII-era Germany under the Nazi regime, a boy named Jojo (Roman Griffin Davis) aspires to be the best Nazi a little boy can be. He goes to Nazi camp, practices Nazi skills like knife-throwing and Hitler-heiling, and studies all the devious supernatural powers that Jews possess. Jojo's aforementioned imaginary friend, a representation of the Führer himself (played by Waititi, a Polynesian Jew), is there to encourage Jojo in his Nazism and help him keep his chin up when the older, better, more physically developed Nazi boys make fun of him for his diminutive stature.
Jojo also dearly loves his mother Rosie (Scarlett Johansson), even if she is rather disapproving of his fanaticism. But when Jojo comes face to face with a Jew in his own home, an older girl named Elsa (Thomasin McKenzie), Jojo is hesitant and uncertain about what action to take.
I called this film "straightforward" because it follows relatively conventional story beats and wears its intent on its sleeve. Certainly the subject matter would seem offbeat enough to defy such a description, but if you were to replace Hitler and Nazi Germany with a fictitious equivalent, the edgy "controversy" of the film would quickly be erased. I don't believe it was Waititi's intent to be edgy or controversial, however, which is why the film's bluntness works. Jojo Rabbit is effectively a standard coming-of-age film, full of lighthearted humor, easy parody, and some pretty effectual drama. Some might balk that the film is simply using the Nazi paintjob as a signifier of greater depth or potency than it really has, but to make such a suggestion would be to miss the film's greatest strength: earnestness.
It's really not even the satire that makes the film compelling; sure, it's fun to watch Stephen Merchant play the captain of a Gestapo squad and repeat "Heil Hitler" as though it were a neurotic tic, or to see Sam Rockwell as a disillusioned has-been Nazi officer making jokes at the Reich's expense, but it's all pretty low-hanging fruit—cute and silly, but ultimately nothing particularly biting. Frankly, it's almost (that's the keyword) disappointingly easy material, coming from Waititi.
Where the film soars is in its relentlessly beating heart. Jojo is defined by his compassion for other beings, which he stifles so as to be a better Nazi. Ironically, it's his pursuit of Reicheousness (if I could invoke a little Germanglish) that prevents him from opening his heart to his greatest faculty. These moments of hope and heartbreak on Roman Griffin Davis' face are what make the film's power palpable. There is one single edit in the film that I think sold me on the entire thing. It's perhaps the most jaw-dropping, inevitable-yet-no-less-disappointing knife-twist in a film that I've experienced this year.
I was iffy on Jojo Rabbit until the final third. I got plenty of laughs out of the film's opening—which is where most of the "haha Nazis are bad, right?" jokes are concentrated—but wouldn't say I was captivated. The film's middle does run a bit long and sags as it digs meditates on Jojo's relationship with his mother and his new-found Jew problem. The back-and-forth progression between the two character dynamics just feels unnecessarily drawn out and repetitive at times.
But once that gut-punch of an edit happens, the film shifts into top gear and makes good on all previous groundwork. The resulting ride is a funny, lighthearted, and then effectively bittersweet fable. It may not be Waititi's most clever, but it might be his most ardent and vital.
It's worth noting that you will be disappointed if you go in looking for the "Taika Waititi as Adolf Hitler" show. He's around a lot at the start, but his appearances peter off as more important story developments take over.
If you want to laugh at Nazis, about a third (maybe half) of this film is for you. But if you want to be amused, then moved, then hugged by a movie about loving others and the futility of radical hate, then you're the target audience.