Downfall is a snapshot of waning empirical and personal glory. At the center of the film stoops Adolf Hitler, who is surrounded by his closest friends, subordinates, and enemies. In the final battles of World War II, the Russians have overpowered and outnumbered the Germanic remnant, while a stalwart leader channels his pride into his dedicated followers.
Oliver Hirschbiegel, the director, inflicts a sense of claustrophobic isolation on the viewer, with an unrelentingly narrowing perspectival representation of Hitler’s downfall. (If this is your idea of 2.5 hours of fun, I suggest you read on ;)) The deep focus frame often finds itself placing gawdy structures at the fore and a once enormous, now miniscule man at the rear. Shot and shot again, greens and blues are indistinguishable from grays. Crowds of actors gravitate toward a fraction of the screen, and scenic furnishings impede where any liberating emptiness may have been had.
Bruno Ganz, who plays the infamous Adolf, conveys his character with an anxious, monstrous energy. Aside from his dictated lack of compassion, Hirschbiegel portrays Hitler as a nationalistic, prideful man of integrity. His ideals are not shaken and he spits all the way to his grave. As the Russians close in, and so do several disloyal countrymen, Ganz’ resolve carries a twinge of hope for the survivors. Certainly the German youth wear this hope as a badge in the film. In Hitler’s mind, an ethnically cleansed society meant a utopian society—and not even compassion toward the weak can stand between a charismatic leader and his ideas of perfection.
Hitler’s hope was ultimately a fool’s hope, even to the degree that he began to fool himself. The dinge, compression, and audible drone of a German bunker underscores this foolishness, which eventually leads to Hitler’s suicide. Even the vile act, when executed with resolve, is a contagious act. It is at this precise moment that the film begins to depict German civilians with hues other than their usual blood-splattered greyness. Indeed, Hitler’s unmoving character and impending demise is the true harbinger of hope for his nation.
Downfall is a war film without the war, a horror film without the boogey man. Hitler is overshadowed and only able to muster a slouching silhouette of his former dignity. This man is unforgivable, but I can’t help but feel compassion in his hour of weakness.