7.2 | / 10 |
| Users | 0.0 | |
| Reviewer | 3.0 | |
| Overall | 3.0 |
Polsky, a lonely Holocaust survivor in South America, begins to suspect his neighbor is Adolf Hitler.
Starring: Udo Kier, David Hayman| Drama | Uncertain |
| Comedy | Uncertain |
Video codec: MPEG-4 AVC
Video resolution: 1080p
Aspect ratio: 2.39:1
Original aspect ratio: 2.39:1
English: DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1
English: DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0
English
Blu-ray Disc
Single disc (1 BD)
Region A (B, C untested)
| Movie | 3.0 | |
| Video | 4.5 | |
| Audio | 4.0 | |
| Extras | 0.5 | |
| Overall | 3.0 |
Mel Brooks kinda sorta proved that Hitler could be funny in The Producers (not to mention The Producers), but Brooks of course is a comedian and rather adept at writing farces. My Neighbor Adolf admittedly never even tries for the giddy comic heights of a Brooks piece, but it struggles at times to maintain a consistent tone, either comedic or dramatic, as it essays a rather fascinating set up: an expat Holocaust survivor living "somewhere in South America" in the early sixties becomes convinced that the man who moves into a neighboring house is none other than Hitler himself, evidently "not quite dead yet". This foundational premise is fraught with potential, and if the film provides generally quite appealing showcases for co-stars David Hayman (as survivor Marek) and Udo Kier (as "is he or isn't he?", here ostensibly named Herman), the film never quite gels and has a tendency to get "stuck" in a kind of very odd morass that is neither laugh out loud funny nor overly suspenseful in terms of building up to "the big reveal".


My Neighbor Adolf is presented on Blu-ray courtesy of Cohen Media Group's Contemporary Classics imprint with an AVC encoded 1080p transfer in 2.39:1. There's not much technical information that I could find online (including at the IMDb, which has no real information as of the writing of this review), but this is an appealing looking digital capture that I'm assuming had a 2K DI. Cinematographer Radek Ladczuk has used Arri cameras on other films and I wouldn't be surprised if that's what was utilized here. The film has a somewhat tamped down palette, perhaps mirroring the "depleted" emotions of the two central characters, but there are still some really nicely suffused moments in the many outdoor scenes that pervade the story. Detail levels are quite expressive throughout the presentation, and close-ups have very precise renderings of everything from facial features to things like the obvious glue lines of Herman's beard. There are some either dimly lit or outright nighttime scenes where shadow detail is not especially fulsome.

My Neighbor Adolf features DTS-HD Master Audio 5.1 and DTS-HD Master Audio 2.0 options. The film has a smattering of several languages, including German, Yiddish and Spanish, all with forced English subtitles, but the bulk of the film is actually in English (with optional subtitles). As mentioned above, a lot of the story takes place outside, and there is good use of the surround channels in the 5.1 mix for ambient environmental effects. Łukasz Targosz's score overtly references Klezmer at times and is presented with nice fidelity. All spoken material is delivered cleanly and clearly throughout.


Years ago in my guise as a musician I was hired to both play piano and "act" (such as I was able) in a play written by a guy whose grandmother had frequented Vienna coffee houses in the 1920s and who had bought a little portrait from some madman painter who would hawk his wares to people sipping their cappuccinos, a key plot point to the play's story. You can probably guess whom that was, though that perhaps subliminally may allude to the fact that Hitler's art is basically closely held by private collectors these days for probably obvious reasons. In just one of several kind of odd elisions My Neighbor Adolf makes, Herman's efforts at painting seem to be a major clue, until they supposedly aren't, only to have those efforts become central again late in the proceedings. There's undeniably interesting content here, but it's hobbled by a haphazard style that veers uneasily between whimsical (?) humor and more intense musings on letting go of past traumas. Somewhat ironically it's actually Yom ha Shoah (Holocaust Day of Remembrance) as this review is being written, and there are certainly undercurrents of "remembrance" (for better or worse) suffusing this story. Fans of Hayman and/or Kier should find enough here to warrant checking out the film, and this Blu-ray offers solid technical merits for anyone who may be considering making a purchase.