4.5 stars. Rated PG-13, for violence, disturbing images, brief sexuality, nudity and moments of extreme dramatic intensity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.31.17
I marvel at the wealth of
previously undisclosed stories that continue to emerge from the Holocaust,
particularly with respect to the bravery of ordinary citizens who risked their
lives while defying Nazi oppressors.
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| As Antonina (Jessica Chastain, seated on the stool) and her son Ryszard (Timothy Radford) enjoy a rare peaceful moment with the Jewish refugees concealed in their basement — from left, Magda (Efrat Dor), Urszula (Shira Haas) and Regina (Martha Issova) — they're startled by an unexpected knock at the front door, upstairs. |
New Zealand director Niki Caro,
whose thoughtful and sensitive films have included The Whale Rider and North
Country, has delivered an equally compelling adaptation of poet/naturalist
Diane Ackerman’s 2007 nonfiction book, The
Zookeeper’s Wife. The resulting drama, anchored by Jessica Chastain’s
luminescent starring performance, is touching, suspenseful and at times
flat-out horrific, revealing yet another layer of atrocities committed in
pursuit of Nazi “cleansing” and “species enhancement.”
Ackerman’s book was constructed
primarily from the unpublished diary of Antonina Żabińska (played here by Chastain), who with her husband Jan (Johan Heldenbergh) directed Poland’s
unexpectedly progressive Warsaw Zoo during the years leading up to World War
II. Most of the animals were kept not in cages but in habitats resembling their
natural environments; numerous critters also wandered among or even lived in
the spacious, cheerfully chaotic on-site home with Antonina, Jan and their
young son Ryszard (Timothy Radford).
The fascinating complexity of
Chastain’s performance is immediately apparent. On the surface Antonina seems
vulnerable, slightly withdrawn and oddly fragile: a woman not quite comfortable
with the trappings and protocols of so-called refined society. But in the
company of the zoo’s wildlife she blossoms into something transcendent: an
empathetic “animal whisperer” practically capable of communicating with all the
birds and beasts.
We eventually learn the reason
for Antonina’s wariness: She’s a Russian-born Pole, and as a child saw her
parents killed by Bolsheviks during the Russian Revolution. Trust does not come
easily, which also explains her greater comfort among animals.
The Żabińska’s social life is lively,
varied and bohemian, their circle of friends including artists, professionals
and intellectuals, many of them Jewish. The subtle viper in their midst is Lutz
Heck (Daniel Brühl), a colleague who visits frequently in his capacity as
director of the Berlin Zoo. Even in these early scenes, there’s something
predatory about Heck’s gaze, particularly when it lingers on Antonina; it feels
as if Brühl’s eyes turn reptilian and beady.
Antonina makes the rounds of the
zoo each morning on a bicycle, a young camel trotting alongside
enthusiastically. Should a particular critter appear to desire company or need
assistance, Antonina will kick off her shoes before entering the habitat
barefoot, like some sort of forest-born wild child.
None of this is the slightest bit
affected or risible under Caro’s careful guidance, and Angela Workman’s finely
tuned script. Nobody here channels the childish fantasy of Doctor Dolittle; if Antonina has any cinematic ancestor, it would
be Audrey Hepburn’s mysterious Rima, in the 1959 adaptation of William Henry
Hudson’s Green Mansions.
