When Christian Friedel was first approached to star in The Zone of Interest three or so years ago, he had no idea what the movie was about, nor whom he’d be portraying. The German actor sent in a tape for director Jonathan Glazer, simply introducing himself as instructed; sometime later, he received the offer to meet with the filmmaker—and hear his vision for the movie. “This horrible story, I heard it for the first time then,” Friedel recounts on this week’s Little Gold Men (listen below), ahead of Zone’s New York Film Festival premiere on Sunday. “And from the very beginning, I wanted to be a part of it.”
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It’s a brave thing, stepping into the shoes of personified evil—and in The Zone of Interest, Friedel pulls off the tricky, nauseating task with chilling humanity and unflinching command. He portrays Rudolf Höss, the Auschwitz commandant who helped lead the implementation of Hitler’s extermination policy. Glazer’s film is far more mundane, though, than such horrific subject matter might imply, focusing with painstaking realism on the day-to-day lives of the Hösses—the concerns of marriage and parenthood and job stresses that are relatable to any family. In that depiction, particularly the tensions between the relatively amiable Rudolf and his severe wife, Hedwig (Sandra Hüller), Zone delivers a searing examination of human nature at its most believably cruel, connecting the atrocities of the Holocaust to the terrors surrounding us in the present day.
To live in that space as an actor is not easy. Friedel’s performance is so disturbing and distinctive precisely because he embraces Glazer’s intimate, haunting vision. It’s a breakout moment for an actor who’s also a full-time musician with his band Polarkreis 18, and who’s quickly made a career of collaborating with master filmmakers unafraid of the dark, going back to his screen debut in Michael Haneke’s The White Ribbon. He sees The Zone of Interest as tough but essential art, with a determination to experience its power fully as he continues to promote the project on the awards trail. “When I saw the movie for the first time, I felt very uncomfortable,” Friedel says. “But I’ve watched the movie now four times. It’s not a movie to watch four times, I think. [Laughs] But this work was really unique and important for me as an actor—and as a human being too.”
Vanity Fair: What was the emotional experience of making this movie? From putting in a tape for a Jonathan Glazer movie, where you don’t even know what it is, to realizing the gravity of what you’re being asked to do, it’s got to be a real discovery process.
Christian Friedel: I felt this gravity and the dimension of the whole movie when I saw it in Cannes. It started with the preparation for this movie. I had a lot of conversations with Jonathan and Sandra Hüller. We talked a lot about the characters…getting deep into this preparation to create this character. I had to lose weight for the summer shoot and gain weight for the winter shoot—it’s a very important detail for the character. It was really intense.
The way Glazer shot this was very fly-on-the-wall, where you guys are filming these unbroken takes in the house. What did that feel like?
It was really unique. I never had an experience like that. We had the multi-camera system and sometimes there were 10 cameras, which allowed us to create or to find the normality or the documentary style. Sometimes Jonathan said, “This is Big Brother in a Nazi house,” it sounds—
No, yeah, it is.
—We don’t follow the characters in an ordinary story, we observe them. So we were alone without technical interruptions, without technicians. The camera department was in the basement, for example. Jonathan and his team were separated next to the set in a little house with 10 monitors. One ear, the German or the original tone, and the other ear, the translation from it. It was amazing. As an actor, it was a really great luxury. We had only two or maybe three scenes on a day; sometimes one scene. We had all the time in the world to improvise. Sometimes we shot scenes simultaneously in different rooms, and you’d hear your colleagues speaking in another room. It was to find this sometimes ordinary life or this normal, sometimes boring life.
I was not allowed to make this character emotional. It was important for me that we don’t see him as a typical evil perpetrator. We want to see him. As an audience, you have the wish: “Oh, yes, that’s not me.” But the challenge was, this is a normal person. This is a normal human being. He’s a father. He’s interested in nature. He loves his kids, his wife. He has an affair. That was really challenging for us.
Did you have any concerns about that part of it being communicated? Rudolf, especially, is fairly mild-mannered. It does sound like you’re putting a lot of trust in your director to communicate what we know is going on. Obviously in the final film, it’s there in that horrific soundscape and the filmmaking, but what did it feel like knowing that the movie had to tell something that maybe you couldn’t necessarily tell in that performance?
There were some emotional scenes—we see him sometimes as a perpetrator, sometimes very angry, but Jonathan’s choice was to cut that out because it’s not important. You said that, “This work with Jonathan [needed to be] full of trust.” I trusted him a lot. Jonathan doesn’t speak German, but he felt the truth; you can hear the truth. I think this is the most important thing, what you hear is maybe more important that what you see. Because there’s two movies in it—a movie you can see and a movie you can hear. Michael Haneke once said to me, “The ears never lie.” This is a really, really good point. This is a movie about us. I think the importance of the movie is what we hear and what we feel in us. It’s uncomfortable, but it’s important to realize this could be us, this is inside of us.
Watching you in this film reminded me of one of my favorite performances of yours, which is in 13 Minutes. You played Georg Elser, who attempted to assassinate Adolf Hitler—so you were very much on the opposite side there. Being a German actor, what is your relationship to this particular period as a performer? Is it difficult for you to continually step into the space? Is it important to you?
For German actors, sometimes there’s a cliche: “You have to play a Nazi. You have to be in the Third Reich, or in the time of World War II.” I’ve had a lot of projects in this time period. Haneke said to me, “You have a historical face and this is very helpful.” I hope there will be a modern movie sometime.” [Laughs] But it started with The White Ribbon. [Then] I had another movie called Closed Season, and I played a Jewish character who fled the Nazis. Then, I had the opportunity to play Georg Elser. He’s not well-known as a resistance fighter, but he’s a very important resistance fighter who tried to assassinate Hitler in Munich and was killed just before the Second World War ended. This journey now to playing Rudolf Höss, to play a Nazi, to change sides—for me the decision was, these people are human beings. I try to find the normality and to find a way to make this character believable.
You’re a musician as well, and a role like this for some could be very all-consuming. Is it important for you to keep that balance of your musical side and your acting side and have both of those things even when you’re in a project as intense as this?
I love to transform and sometimes I change to fit the character. Rudolf Höss is one of those characters. I had him inside of me for a long time. It was really, really hard to find a way to lose him; the music helps me a lot. I have a promotional tour now in the U.S. and this band is my second family. Music is for me the most personal expression. But when I create a character and even Rudolf Höss, I try to connect them to my inner feelings. So music is an opener for me to dive into these characters. With these two worlds, there’s a connection and it’s really important for me.
You’ve taken this film to Cannes, to Telluride, to Toronto. How have you found the conversations, the audience experience, from place to place?
In Cannes, I was overwhelmed. After the screening, people on the street came to me and wanted to talk about the movie, to talk about the experience.
For me, it’s very interesting. I have a theater background, and in the theater you create your character in the moment. You feel this dialogue from the audience to the stage. To sit there and to watch the movie with other people…you feel, “Okay, this is a relevant movie.” It’s not only a movie about a huge, incredible, unbelievable, horrible crime. It’s a movie where we realize the decisions we make define us. These human beings do this to other human beings. We are masters of self-deception. We ignore the atrocities happening around us. We compartmentalize this.
Sometimes Sandra and I were unsure when we shot this movie. We had phone calls: “What are we doing here? Is this right? My God, this could be a scandal.” But then to feel, “No, this is the right way to tell the story from this perspective”—this is really, really great. There was a famous actor who saw this movie, and we sat together. After the screening, he asked the producer, “This kind man, what was his part?” Then the producer said, “He played the Commandant.” He was shocked it was me. Maybe it’s difficult for my career, but I liked this. [Laughs] Even a famous actor doesn’t recognize me in private. That’s good.
I saw the movie in Telluride where the audience was sort of stunned into silence. I am curious at a place like that, how you experienced being there with the movie? There’s a real conversation happening at a place like that.
It was my first time in Telluride and I really, really enjoyed it. To watch so many movies and to talk about that with the filmmakers, with the audience. So casual without the red carpet.
Did you have any favorites?
One of my favorites was the documentary from Jon Batiste, American Symphony. It was in the open air [theater] and there was a small concert from Jon Batiste before the screening that was a real luxury situation. I really liked Poor Things, Yorgos Lanthimos. Saltburn, I was in a mood. And I was really touched by All of Us Strangers. That was a really emotional experience. Sandra and I, we sat there in tears. It reminded me of my own story; I lost my parents very early. There was a connection to this main character.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
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