Son of Saul

World War II, a war machine ensuring mechanized misery malevolently eviscerates, its inherent cruelty viciously forcing its prisoners to meticulously accelerate their own demise, treachery and suicide integral components of its abysmal order, survive through brutality before being brutally discarded, act, don't think, remain unobservant, no future, no past, all-encompassing immediate degeneracy, malicious hellspawn, total, craven, chaos.

One man suddenly opens his eyes, has a thought, abstracts himself from the horror, existentializing the spiritual in a momentary revelation, taking matters into his own hands, boldly asserting dignity.

His individualistic search for last rights causes problems for his collective as his pursuit of a proper burial for his son complicates their plans to escape.

But his steady committed unyielding focus also exemplifies what it means to be human, to uphold peaceful virtues, to have respect for both the living and the dead, to majestically sabotage the ruthless ethics of the oppressor, with wild moral implications, an aesthetic point of view.

Son of Saul's immediacy pulls you into death's grip with unrelenting intensity as fascist logic refuses to let go, desperate resiliencies thwarting its banality with resolute transcendent grace.

The unexpected, the unpredictable, the exceptional, the sane, Saul's (Géza Röhrig) actions serve as a reminder to the conscientious that strength of will can reflex irrepressibly, spontaneous means, keeping goals in mind.