14-year-old György's life is torn apart in World War II Hungary as he is sent to a concentration camp where he is forced to become a man, and learns to find happiness in the midst of hatred, and what it really means to be Jewish.
Two men become entangled in a torrid love affair with the same woman. Pierre is Miriam's longtime lover. John is desperately searching for clues about his past when he and Miriam have a ... See full summary »
An Hungarian youth comes of age at Buchenwald during World War II. György Köves is 14, the son of a merchant who's sent to a forced labor camp. After his father's departure, György gets a job at a brickyard; his bus is stopped and its Jewish occupants sent to camps. There, György find camaraderie, suffering, cruelty, illness, and death. He hears advice on preserving one's dignity and self-esteem. He discovers hatred. If he does survive and returns to Budapest, what will he find? What is natural; what is it to be a Jew? Sepia, black and white, and color alternate to shade the mood. Written by
When he was ill, Gyorgy was taken to a tent with the word "Revier" written on it. A revier in the language of concentration camps was a facility for sick inmates. The word is abbreviated from the German term, Krankenrevier ("sick bay", "dispensary"). The majority of the Revier's medical personnel were inmates themselves and the conditions in reviers varied considerably depending on the type of the camp. See more »
I didn't go to school today. Well, if only to ask my teacher to let me go home. I gave him father's letter. He asked what the reason was. I told him father had been called up for forced labor.
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As a kid, I used to think that some of the thoughts I was having were unique to me. I didn't see any of those things in mass media. But slowly and slowly as I read more and I see more films, that set of things that were unique only to me have been reducing in size. Fateless just destroyed that set.
I love movies. They move me, excite and sometimes literally live me breathless. Fateless just shook me up. It struck a chord somewhere deep inside. It revived the memories that I thought I had forgotten, the feelings that I had buried somewhere deep in my psyche.
All the credit has to go to Imre Kertész, the writer of the original source as well as the screenplay writer. He has written an account that is so painfully honest and bold that it breaks through all the clichés of depictions of pain and sorrow, not just in literature and film but in life too.
After a long time I am just itching to get my hands on a book. Don't know when I will take it up though.
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