I am actually humbled by this film, and I am unusually grateful to have seen it, finally, 45 years after its making.
There are some superficial aspects of *Judgement at Nuremberg* that are dated: some of Stanley Kramer's camera-work is unnecessarily showy or gimmicky. Some of the sets are noticeably fake, and some of the dialog is stilted, especially in early scenes outside the courtroom. The music goes momentarily over the top in the climactic confrontation between the key defendant, played by Burt Lancaster, and the chief judge (Spencer Tracy) after the trial.
Much more striking, however, are the film's strengths, and how unusually well it holds up. I usually think of Kramer as an overstated liberal autodidact, but here the acting is, for the most part, admirably restrained and authentic. Even *William Shatner*--no kidding--is subtle here. After an unpromisingly sensational opening salvo by Richard Widmark as the chief prosecutor, this movie settles into a gravity, balance and rigorous honesty (both intellectual and emotional) that are utterly necessary for a serious treatment of a subject as overwhelmingly important as the origin and expression of Nazi evil.
Balance is a key to this film's greatness. It is not insignificant that it was Maximillian Schell, who played the Nazi judges' defense attorney not as a slimy shyster but as a powerfully rigorous advocate determined to hold the *world's* feet to the fire rather than let his clients become patsies for a vast breakdown of moral responsibility with astonishingly widespread implications. By looking courageously into the teeth of the reality of German society and politics leading up to and during the Second World War and the reality of American, European and Communist moral failings, Abby Mann's great screenplay creates an extraordinarily persuasive context for the extraordinarily powerful thematic statements against Nazi atrocities with which it concludes.
Two scenes near the movie's conclusion struck me most powerfully. First, I have never been more sickened, enraged and humbled by visual evidence of the Holocaust than I was when it was presented in the context of the trial at this film's center. Second, I was chilled--frightened in a very contemporary and immediate way--by the great speech of judgment given at the trial's end by Spencer Tracy's Chief Judge Dan Hayward. I urge anyone that is concerned about the erosion of civil liberties in America today to watch this film to better understand how insidiously evil may overtake a modern nation in crisis. More important, I urge anyone that believes that America is today in a crisis that requires extraordinary measures to watch this movie, listen with an open mind to this speech, and consider its implications for the direction of our own country today.
Stepping down now from my soap box, let me say more clearly: Do yourself a favor and watch this movie. Never mind how old it is or how long it is or how dreary the subject may seem. If you care about the fate of humanity, you too will be grateful.
There are some superficial aspects of *Judgement at Nuremberg* that are dated: some of Stanley Kramer's camera-work is unnecessarily showy or gimmicky. Some of the sets are noticeably fake, and some of the dialog is stilted, especially in early scenes outside the courtroom. The music goes momentarily over the top in the climactic confrontation between the key defendant, played by Burt Lancaster, and the chief judge (Spencer Tracy) after the trial.
Much more striking, however, are the film's strengths, and how unusually well it holds up. I usually think of Kramer as an overstated liberal autodidact, but here the acting is, for the most part, admirably restrained and authentic. Even *William Shatner*--no kidding--is subtle here. After an unpromisingly sensational opening salvo by Richard Widmark as the chief prosecutor, this movie settles into a gravity, balance and rigorous honesty (both intellectual and emotional) that are utterly necessary for a serious treatment of a subject as overwhelmingly important as the origin and expression of Nazi evil.
Balance is a key to this film's greatness. It is not insignificant that it was Maximillian Schell, who played the Nazi judges' defense attorney not as a slimy shyster but as a powerfully rigorous advocate determined to hold the *world's* feet to the fire rather than let his clients become patsies for a vast breakdown of moral responsibility with astonishingly widespread implications. By looking courageously into the teeth of the reality of German society and politics leading up to and during the Second World War and the reality of American, European and Communist moral failings, Abby Mann's great screenplay creates an extraordinarily persuasive context for the extraordinarily powerful thematic statements against Nazi atrocities with which it concludes.
Two scenes near the movie's conclusion struck me most powerfully. First, I have never been more sickened, enraged and humbled by visual evidence of the Holocaust than I was when it was presented in the context of the trial at this film's center. Second, I was chilled--frightened in a very contemporary and immediate way--by the great speech of judgment given at the trial's end by Spencer Tracy's Chief Judge Dan Hayward. I urge anyone that is concerned about the erosion of civil liberties in America today to watch this film to better understand how insidiously evil may overtake a modern nation in crisis. More important, I urge anyone that believes that America is today in a crisis that requires extraordinary measures to watch this movie, listen with an open mind to this speech, and consider its implications for the direction of our own country today.
Stepping down now from my soap box, let me say more clearly: Do yourself a favor and watch this movie. Never mind how old it is or how long it is or how dreary the subject may seem. If you care about the fate of humanity, you too will be grateful.