Sentimentality. Bombast. Larger-than-life performances. A ridiculously protracted narrative. Adhering to familiar tropes. There’s a time and place for everything, but typically I don’t consider myself a fan of these elements, especially when they come at the expense of authenticity or emotional truth. James Vanderbilt’s historical epic Nuremberg contains all of them, and yes, there’s little subtlety, if any — but it also happens to be handsomely produced, eminently watchable, old-school filmmaking, with gorgeous cinematography and a magnetic turn from the great Russell Crowe.
Rami Malek plays WWII psychiatrist Douglas Kelly, responsible for assessing Nazi leaders ahead of the Nuremberg trials. Gradually he begins to form a bond of sorts with Hitler’s right-hand man himself, the increasingly confident Hermann Göring (Russell Crowe). In the process of attempting to determine whether the man is fit for trial, Douglas delves deep into the heart of evil; is he charmed by this monster?
Michael Shannon portrays Robert H. Jackson, the U.S. Supreme Court Justice behind the Nuremberg Trials.
“…begins to form a bond of sorts with Hitler’s right-hand man…”
Michael Shannon plays Robert H. Jackson, the Associate Justice of the U.S. Supreme Court that helped conceive the Nuremberg trials; one of the subplots involves his journey to make the trials happen with the help from the Pope. He asks Douglas to be a spy, fishing information about the Nazi’s upcoming defense from his patients. A psychological game of cat-and-mouse ensues.
The acting in Nuremberg ranges from great to overwrought. Crowe shines, speaking fluent German. His conviction that he’ll beat the system and be set free (“the closer we get to the indictments the more confident he becomes”) makes you almost buy it, despite knowing the outcome. Crowe is a master who knows exactly what the material calls for. Him taking the stand marks just one of the highlights. Malek could dial back on the smarm a little; his “know-it-all” grin becomes tiresome; it’s in the moments where he allows himself to lose his guard that the actor truly impresses.
The rest of the massive cast is a mixed bag. Richard E. Grant is underutilized as the assistant prosecutor; Colin Hanks, as Dr. Gustav Gilbert, is also allowed criminally little time. Leo Woodall and Mark O’Brien are fine actors but get lost in the shuffle. John Slattery hams it up as Colonel Burton C. Andrus. Shannon kills it, as always.
"…glorification of that thrill does feels a little icky..."
