There is great controversy surrounding Max, based exclusively on the fact that it deals with the early life of Adolf Hitler. The question is whether it is in any way appropriate to the millions of victims of the Holocaust and the losses on both sides of World War II. While the re-examination of history and the figures that shaped it can be useful, great care must be taken in order to avoid clichés by presenting their human flaws and thus making their crimes all the more monstrous. This is a monumental challenge to any filmmaker, and any actor charged with bringing the historical figure back to life
While Noah Taylor attempts to respond to this challenge, he falls slightly short of the mark, mostly because of the limitations of the script. This Hitler, disenchanted with the poverty and squalor of post-WWI Germany, seeks not only to bring back a sense of national pride to his fellow citizens, but also to find a place among them rather than on their fringes. After spending four years in the trenches, fighting on the losing side, Hitler returns home with no family, no money and only the belief that he is, as he claims, “a master painter.”
Here, Hitler meets Max, the Jewish art dealer who befriends him and tries to lead him away from the racist and propagandistic path the army offers him. Their bond is born through their mutual experience of the war, and as Max takes the young painter under his wing he explains to him how the new modernist art reflects the chaos of the new world. It also poses an opportunity for Hitler to express his inner turmoil by harnessing what Max refers to as the heart of the modernist movement, namely, “an authentic voice.” Unfortunately, Hitler’s voice is not in his realistic charcoal sketches of dogs and landscapes, but in the half-truths and propaganda he spews to enraptured crowds. Here, as Hitler descends into his monstrosity, he presents Max with the idea that maybe politics is the new art, and he is its leading practitioner.
The major flaw in Max is the character of Max himself. Because we know the film is ultimately about Hitler, the title character’s concerns, as with his life, recede into the background. While John Cusack does an excellent job conveying his suffering during the war (the physical toll of losing his arm), he also exemplifies the bourgeoisie excesses of his time in his affairs and privileged lifestyle. Max functions as an intervention, Hitler’s last hope at redemption, and so he speaks less like a character and more like a director’s mouthpiece. Despite Max’s violent fate, Hitler becomes the sympathetic character, which is a most dangerous prospect, relying as it does on the two-dimensional nature of his problems. The fact that he wasn’t loved enough, or his failure as a painter, is not a legitimate excuse for mass murder—something the film seems to forget.
Revisiting the past is sometimes a necessary evil if we hope to understand ourselves. Unfortunately, in this case, the film takes the form of an intervention, hoping to stop Hitler before he really hurts someone. As a result, it wastes the opportunity to put a human face on the monster (thus revealing the potential monster in any of us) and instead presents us with a series of “What if’s” and “If only’s.” Save your ire for something worthy of it. Max isn’t good enough to get upset about.
