Though Nazis burn thousands of novels in The Book Thief, Marcus Zusak’s tale itself is alive and well. An international bestseller for over two hundred weeks, the book sets a high bar for its cinematic interpretation. Director Brian Percival works through the plot of the novel well, but taming a 576-page tome about the power of the written word into a two-hour movie proves a difficult task at best.
The Book Thief follows Leisel (Sophie Nélisse), a young orphan living in Germany during World War II, as she struggles with growing up in such turbulent times. She is adopted by an old couple named Rosa (Emily Watson) and Hans Hubermann (Geoffrey Rush), and soon picks up a passion for reading. Sadly, however, Nazis begin burning most books in the town, and the girl is forced to hide books and read them secretly. It is this passion for books that gives her some happiness throughout the years of violence and persecution from Nazis.
With a story as passionate and suspenseful as this, I was worried that the movie would be full of clichés and unnecessary dramatization. Thankfully, audiences have no need to fret. The actors are powerful, playing their characters as if they actually lived during WWII. In a movie where all the characters are interacting with a little girl who just wants to have a normal childhood, there are plenty of scenes that could have easily crossed the line from heartwarming to cheesy. At one point, Rosa cleans Liesel’s wounds and says, “You are just like your father,” to which Liesel replies, “Is that bad?” After a pause, Rosa looks at the girl and says “No.” The young Nélisse makes this raw, emotional dialogue both believable and touching. The end result: a bit of the audience’s soul is crushed whenever something terrible happens to Liesel or Hans.
With Death as the narrator, it comes as no surprise that the movie’s mood is mostly sad, but it is counterbalanced somewhat with bright moments of comic relief. Rosa’s sassiness towards her husband, Rudy’s constant request for a kiss from Liesel, and Hans’ jokes about his wife come together to make the movie more emotionally authentic and to give the characters personality. At some point, they begin to feel less like characters and more like real people.
Unfortunately, the kid-friendly rating of the movie makes World War II far less violent than it actually was. Bodies, even after they have been blown up, appear in one recognizable piece, and blood is only shed behind the scenes. For such a heavy subject matter—the Holocaust—this gloss detracts from the power of Liesel’s persistence. As Zusak writes, “I have hated words and I have loved them, and I hope I have made them right.” Percival attempts to translate words into film, and though he doesn’t quite make them right, he still leaves us with some heart wrenching illustrations.
