Issue 82 (2023) |
Nikolai Lebedev: Nuremberg (Niurnberg, 2023) reviewed by Frederick H. White © 2023 |
Visually stunning, Nikolai Lebedev’s Nuremberg is a romantic spy-thriller, which unravels in parallel with the International Military Tribunal proceedings that put Nazi leaders on trial in 1945-46. Originally meant to celebrate the defeat of Nazism, the film was released one year after the Russian invasion of Ukraine due to delays caused by Covid-19. As a result, the film will be viewed within this context causing one Russian film critic to suggest that Nuremberg now is being viewed in a “parallel universe” (Dolin 2023). Immersed in the post-truth era, Russian audiences have been told that the film offers a historical corrective, even as the present-day Russian government attempts to “de-Nazify” a neighboring, sovereign nation. Shown to busloads of school-age children and accompanied by introductory comments from history professors and political scientists, Nuremberg offers a detour into an incongruous alternative Russian reality.
Nominally, the film is about the criminal proceedings to identify war crimes and crimes against humanity; to establish irrefutable evidence of Nazi crimes for the historical record, and to dissuade any lingering support for the German elite. However, the trial in Nuremberg often recedes into the background as the film follows Igor’ Volgin (Sergei Kempo), a Soviet military intelligence officer, who first tries to find his missing brother, last seen in Nuremberg, and then falls in love with Lena (Liubov’ Aksenova), a Russian woman brought to Germany to work in a munitions factory. Officially, Volgin has come to Nuremberg as an interpreter, but in fact works to help Colonel Migachev (Evgenii Mironov) fight against vanquished, but not yet defeated German saboteurs, led by Helmut (Wolfgang Cerny). Complicating matters, there is a Soviet double-agent aiding Helmut in his attempt to free or kill the imprisoned Nazi leaders before they can be tried and executed by the multinational tribunal.
Lebedev has the unenviable task of trying to intertwine the court-room drama, spy-thriller and romance into a convincing single narrative. Although other film directors, including Nikita Mikhalkov, had been attached to the project at one time or another, Lebedev was selected after his box-office successes Legend No. 17 (2013) and Flight Crew (Ekipazh, 2016), among others. Lebedev, also the scriptwriter, adapted former Deputy Prosecutor General Aleksandr Zviagintsev’s court-room drama Forever and Ever (Na veki vechnye, 2011), adding romance and underground conspiracy elements to the film.
Nuremberg should be viewed as a byproduct of the post-truth era when specific facts and entire histories can be faked or disallowed. Post-truth is associated with the dissemination of political misinformation as part of internal and external informational warfare. “[P]ost-truth misinformation has arguably been designed and used as a smokescreen to divert attention from strategic political actions or challenges,” deployed in pursuit of political objectives (Lewandowsky et al 2017, 364). It is resistant to fact-checking because post-truth claims rely on confidence in the speaker, rather than on the truthfulness of the claims. Vladimir Putin is often cited as one of the instigators of this phenomenon. Post-truth misinformation in Russia is often disseminated internally as nostalgia, what Mariëlle Wijermars refers to as “memory politics.” Consequently, Russian cinema has begun to adhere to the political mandate, mainly because the Russian government now finances most domestic film production and controls lucrative access to state-run television channels (Wijermars 2019).
One of the main Russian purveyors of this “post-truth” trajectory is the former Minister of Culture, Vladimir Medinskii, an ultra-conservative demagogue and Russian military enthusiast. As Minister of Culture, Medinskii promoted his own interpretation of Russian history, elevating it to state policy. This assault on historical truth can be seen in Medinskii’s support for the film Panfilov’s 28 Men (28 panfilovtsev, 2016), based on a Stalinist myth about 28 Soviet soldiers defending Moscow from dozens of Nazi tanks. This story had been debunked by Emil Kardin in 1966 (Johnston 2022). Even so, the advertising for the film called it a “holy legend” (sviataia legenda) and appealed to nationalistic feelings, reminding audiences of better times, when the Soviet Union was united and could defend itself from external enemies. It was Medinskii in 2018 who proposed the adaptation of Zviagintsev’s novel to celebrate, on 9 May 2020, the 75th Anniversary of Nazi Germany’s surrender. Due to the pandemic, however, Nuremberg premiered finally on 2 March 2023, after Russia had already invaded Ukraine.
Accordingly, as film critic Anton Dolin has noted, Nuremberg will not be seen by a large international audience, and even within Russia, no one can be critical of the film due to strict censorship laws. “As a result, it seems that even the creators do not realize how incredible [it is that] a blockbuster about the trial of war criminals is shown on the screens of a country whose leadership is committing war crimes right at this very moment, and on the same territory” (Dolin 2023). In the post-truth era, Russia can unabashedly create and maintain its own alternative reality.
As an example, military intelligence officer Volgin is housed in a German woman’s apartment in Nuremberg. She is unhappy with his presence there. At one point she lashes out at Volgin asking why he killed her son in the Battle of Stalingrad? In response, Volgin asks why her son was in Stalingrad? The woman shouts, “He defended his homeland!” Volgin queries as to how one defends one’s homeland in a foreign country? Certainly, some in the cinema audience must sense the tragic irony in this exchange as Russian soldiers are now entrenched in the Donbas and Crimea.
In a similar vein of alternative realities, this film never mentions genocide, the Holocaust or speaks the word “Jews.” There is a very powerful scene when recovered footage from the Nazi extermination camps is shown in court; bodies are thrown and bulldozed into mass graves and many other horrific images rapidly are projected onto the horrified courtroom participants. Soon after, the Soviet lawyer Roman Rudenko (Sergei Bezrukov) displays lamp shades, soap, and purses made from human skin. But never is this explicitly identified as part of the genocide of the Jewish people. Likewise, film critic Lidiia Maslova has noted that the real Rudenko was Ukrainian, which was originally captured in the dialogue of Zviagintsev’s novel, but Bezrukov delivers his lines in “impeccable Russian” (Maslova 2023). Noticeably, Jews and Ukrainians do not inhabit this alternative space.
Undeniably, the film’s overt message is that the Nazi saboteurs may be the first, immediate enemy of the Soviet Union, but the Americans and the West are certainly secondary antagonists. This same worldview has been expressed by Sergei Lavrov, long-time Russian foreign minister, who claimed that in several European countries, particularly Ukraine and the Baltic states, Nazism is being “justified,” while these countries are also reviving “the ideology and practices of the Third Reich.” Therefore, Lavrov has expressed his appreciation for Nuremberg in its attempt to combat the “falsification of history” (Press release 2023).
Significantly, as WWII drew to an end, the Soviets demanded the tribunal in order to establish the evidentiary truth of Nazi war crimes. However, in Nuremberg it is Volgin, representing military intelligence, who achieves justice extra judiciously. As a rumor spreads that the Nazi leaders might be acquitted, Volgin is sent to recover important fascist documents and, later, to deliver a main Nazi witness to court. Finally, it is Volgin who thwarts Helmut’s plan to release the Nazi leadership and discovers the identity of the Soviet double-agent. Rather than the multinational tribunal, it is Soviet military intelligence that effectively delivers ultimate justice.
And yet, not all is lost, as the film is visually impressive. Mosfilm recreated the courtroom and post-war Germany in minute and impeccable detail. Such fidelity to the actual Nuremberg courtroom, however, begs the question: why are the court proceedings limited to less than a quarter of the film’s two-hour running time? Particularly notable is the acting of Carsten Norgaard as Reichsmarschall Hermann Göring. He is superbly insolent and holds the court and its proceeding in utter contempt throughout the film. Whereas the other Nazi leaders are largely forgettable, Norgaard as Göring must be watched whenever he appears on screen.
So, what should an audience make of Nuremberg? In this version of history, Soviet military intelligence establishes the truth by extra judiciary means, thwarting Nazi saboteurs. According to the Russian government, this is very similar to what is happening today in Ukraine. Therefore, can Nuremberg legitimately celebrate the trial and execution of war criminals without a larger conversation about what is happening concurrently? After all, there are efforts being made to collect the evidentiary truth in Ukraine that will later hold Russians accountable for war crimes and crimes against humanity. Only in a parallel universe, as Dolin has noted, is this not the entire context for this film’s reception.
Instead, two Russian film critics have noted the large groups of school-age children brought to the various premieres of Nuremberg in various cities. Both critics have implied that an adult audience might see the film for what it is, a romantic spy-thriller, but the children do not have the same advantage of cynicism. In one instance, the film’s producer Il’ia Vasiliev, a political scientist and author of history books, introduced Nuremberg and explained how it is a corrective for history as portrayed by Hollywood (Rezvanova 2023; Maslova 2023). Therefore, one can only view this film within the context of the post-truth era, and marvel at (or be horrified by) how it is meant to reshape young (and old?) viewers’ understanding of the historical truth. The court of public opinion in Russia has yet to render a verdict, although it is doubtful that they will even be afforded this right.
Frederick H. White
Utah Valley University
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Works Cited
Anon. (2023) Press release from the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. “Kommentraii Ministra inostrannykh del Rossiiskoi Federatsii S.V. Lavrova v sviazi s predstoiashchei prem’eroi khudozhestvennogo fil’ma ‘Niurnberg’.” 15 February.
Dolin, Anton. (2023). “V strimingakh vyshel ‘Niurnberg’ – shpionskii triller Nikolaia Lebedeva,” Meduza, 22 April.
Florova, Iuliia. (2023) “Nikolai Lebedev: ‘Niurnberg’ – eto predostrezhenie ostanovit’ monstra v samom sebe,” TASS, 11 March.
Johnston, Rebecca Adeline. (2022) “The Only Russian Official Angrier Than Putin at How Things Are Going in Ukraine,” Slate, 8 March.
Lewandowsky, Stephan, Ullrich K.H. Ecker and John Cook. (2017). “Beyond Misinformation: Understanding and Coping with the ‘Post-Truth’ Era,” in Journal of Applied Research in Memory and Cognition 6: 353-69.
Maslova, Lidiia. (2023). “Uznaiu brata Koliu : Sentimental’nyi ‘Niurnberg’ Nikolaia Lebedeva,” Fontanka.ru, 1 March.
Rezvanova, Aliia. (2023). “‘Niurnberg’: detektivno-shpionskii triller o vsepobezhdaiushchei sile liubvi,” KazanFirst, 26 February.
Wijermars, Mariëlle. (2019). Memory Politics in Contemporary Russia: Television, Cinema and the State. London: Routledge.
Nuremberg, Russia (Germany, Czechia, UK), 2023
131 min.
Director: Nikolai Lebedev
Scriptwriters: Nikolai Lebedev, Aleksandr Zviagintsev
Music: Eduard Artemev
Cinematography: Irek Hartowicz
Production Design: Katerina Mirova, Gulnara Shakhmilova, Mariia Iuresko
Cast: Sergei Kempo, Liubov’ Aksenova, Evgenii Mironov, Sergei Bezrukov, Aleksei Bardukov, Igor’ Petrenko, Wolfgang Cerny, Charlotte Harwood, Laura Bach, Klaus Schindler, Carsten Norgaard
Producers: Elmira Ainulova, Arkadii Fateev, Il’ia Vasiliev, Mariia Zhuromskaia
Production: Producers’ Centre “Cinema Production”, Gazprom-Media, Kadr Media
Nikolai Lebedev: Nuremberg (Niurnberg, 2023) reviewed by Frederick H. White © 2023 |